


Picture Perfect

by EonAO3



Series: Picture Perfect [1]
Category: Sebastian Stan - Fandom, Sebastian Stan Fandom
Genre: Celebrity Crush, F/M, Fluff, Mild Language, Press Tour, Romantic Fluff, Sarcasm, Sebastian Stan fandom - Freeform, Secret Crush
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-19
Updated: 2016-01-24
Packaged: 2018-05-02 17:48:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 23,631
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5257904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EonAO3/pseuds/EonAO3
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The press tour for your new movie is a globe trotting adventure. The whirlwind tour whisks you, an up and coming actress, to China with one of your co-stars (and secret crush), Sebastian Stan.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. It's Cold Outside

Falling in love on set is cliché. Not only cliché, it's complicated. The work is already demanding, the expectations for you are high, and the aspirations for yourself are even higher. You were in Hollywood. Of course, your co-stars were going to be attractive. Some of them would be good people, too. The one who turned out to be an attractive, good person who happened to have a great sense of humor and was patient, encouraging, and helpful to boot would be problematic to say the least. You knew better than to get involved with a coworker and risk getting distracted or a reputation. So, as disappointing as it was, you resolved to settle on a crush that would go nowhere and just make a new friend.

It's not easy to break into the movie business and be noticed. Having landed an eight episode recurring role on a major network show in primetime got you noticed after some modeling and very low budget projects got your foot in the door. After that, getting a supporting role in an indie movie turned surprise Academy Award nominated film with a big name producer got you thoughtful head nods and smile-lined, whispered notes between casting directors at auditions. You appreciated every moment of your incredible luck. And now, part of your first big budget film with a star-studded headlining cast, you were thrilled to see your name in the tiny print at the bottom of a movie poster. Jet lagged or not, you were enjoying every exhausting, sleep deprived, hustled schedule, interpreter needed, flashbulb blinded second of your first international press tour.

Your co-stars and new friends were very kind to help you along on the tour. The ones with a few notches in their belts, offered local food recommendations and shared stories of their last tour that wound through Munich, London, or wherever the hell you'd be tomorrow. You all kept company together at the hotel restaurants and bars and adventured out for an occassional club night or sight seeing if the schedule wasn't too tight. You instagrammed a random "hello from" selfie from a red carpet or infront of a widely known landmark for your growing number of fans and took plenty of photos with a real camera when you could to savor the memories later for yourself. The tour was a lot of work but a lot of fun as well.

The frenzy of the crowds was a little overwhelming compared to some of your previous stops. Although much of the madness was meant for the big name actors who walked the carpet in front of you, there was a welcoming atmosphere from everyone and no shortage of autgraph and photo requests from the crowds. Even if they were just excited to meet any actor or hoped your scribbled signature would be worth something later, you fed off their energy to keep a smile on your face and endure whatever the weather with grace and enthusiasm.

You had never been to China and you didn't speak the language. You figured the Beijing stop was going to be one of the more challenging parts of the trip. Eager to learn and interested to be able to relate, you'd picked up a few phrases that would come in handy to thank someone or give a compliment, but it wouldn't be enough to get you through an interview. Much to your relief, the studio had arranged for interpreters to accompany everyone through all the scheduled events. They were a wealth of information and fun facts too when you were taking a tour with a couple of your castmates on your first full day in town.

It was a cold, overcast morning when you left your Beijing hotel, packed into a large van with a couple of your co-stars and your director to take you to the Forbidden City. With your camera in hand, you snapped shots as your group shuffled around taking in the art and architecture of the imperial palace. So many features took your breath away and you tried to absorb every fact about the buildings and history you could. You uploaded a selfie with an enthusiastic smile and sandwiched between a pair of your co-stars in front of one of the golden thrones and posed for a few group shots in front of different palaces and halls for the local media to use. It would be a perfect day if you weren't so damned cold.

You dressed warm and were bundled up tight under your peacoat. You were sensible with a knit beanie and gloves, a thick knit sweater, jeans, and your favorite boots. But the wind managed to cut through it all sometimes, giving you a chill. Your cheeks were a little rosy from the biting air but you didn't complain. Walking around helped keep you warm. A bit of bouncing on your toes when you stood still, the collar of your coat stood up against the wind, and your hands stuffed in your pockets when you weren't taking pictures got you through.

"You want my scarf?"

"What?" You were listening to the tour guide when you were a little confused and surprised by the question leaned into your ear. You turned to look behind you at the quiet voice and saw Sebastian standing just off your shoulder.

"My scarf," he repeated. "You want it?"

You smiled politely despite the sudden fluttering butterflies in your belly. Of course you did. It was frickin' freezing. You'd spent enough time with and near him over the months of filming and press to love the smell of his cologne. Honestly, if you'd gotten ahold of the scarf, you might never give it back. Your thoughts had no shame thinking about that man. "No, that's okay. Thanks though."

"Are you sure?" he offered again, his brow showing mild concern. "You look cold."

"Nah," you said, scrunching your face for a disintersted smile and head shake. "I'll be fine, really. Besides, the fangirls would probably riot if I took it."

"Your fangirls or mine?" he asked, smiling playfully.

The tour guide finished and began to usher the group to the next attraction. Walking on, Sebastian tagged along beside you.

"Your fangirls," you specified. "I don't think I have any of my own."

"Fanboys then," he decided with a thoughtful nod and purse of his lips. "There's plenty of those."

You laughed and felt a little warmth come to your cheeks from the blush at his notion. "Well, I'd still lose based on sheer numbers alone," you assured him.

"I don't know," he shrugged. "You probably have more than you think."

"Still," you insisted. "Nothing I've done has a following like you. You've got an entire fandom devoted to the defense of Bucky Barnes. And don't get me started on TJ or Jack. Have you ever _seen_ tumblr? I mean, come on. My fans against yours? That's like bringing a knife to a gun fight. Like, a little plastic knife you get from a drive-thru."

He laughed loudly and smiled wide, nudging your arm with his elbow. "That's depressing."

"Said the poster child for angst," you smirked.

"From the girl who-" he trailed off, thinking. "Fuck. I got nothing."

"You're weird," you told him, giggling at his failure.

"You're weird," he insisted, a little too over-offended to be taken seriously.

"Me?" you questioned, incredulously. You pointed behind you to a flock of Chinese fans. "You're name is a _number_."

He looked behind him and smiled. "Yeah," he admitted. "I'm weird. But it's pretty cool, too."

You smiled at his appreciative wave back at the fans behind you. "You're such a dork," you told him.

"Yeah?" he asked, quirking up an eyebrow with a smug smile on his face. "Well, at least I'm not cold."

You rolled your eyes and your mouth fell open in a silent groan. The group stopped and you turned your attention back to the tour guide, a small smile on your face as you listened. You always enjoyed the snarky little back and forth exchanges with him. You suspected he did too, otherwise he would probably have been offended at some point by now.

The wind came up again, nipping at your face and you shrank into the defense of your coat's collar. Sebastian saw and he elbowed you again. You frowned and nudged him back. He did it again and so did you. The third time, you shot him a look and mouthed for him to "pay attention" before turning your head back up front, your eyes rolling in exaggerated exasperation. Barely a minute went by before you felt a push into your arm again. You looked over to see Sebastian standing statuesque and still beside you, eyes focused on the guide ahead of you.

"Quit," you whispered sternly.

He looked over at you with a confused expression. He raised his shoulders in an innocent shrug. You raised a gloved finger in warning before stuffing your hands into your coat pockets again. You turned to look at the ornate dragons on the wall the tour guide was pointing at and you felt it again, an elbow into your arm. Jaw set forward under a tight frown, you looked over your shoulder to him and mouthed a vicious "stop it". He wrinkled his nose and squinted back, his mouth silently and mockingly repeating what you told him as the group started to move again.

"You're like a child," you pointed out.

"You're the one not paying attention," he countered. "We're here in this beautiful place and all you do is bother me instead of listening to the rich history of this country."

"Seriously?" you asked, flatly. You sighed. "Like a child. A six foot tall, Romanian man-child."

He laughed and you couldn't stop your smile again.


	2. Kinda Hoping

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Story inspired by the pic at the end of this chapter

The twenty minute nap you were able to squeeze in after your return from the tour of the Forbidden City was far from restful. You were sipping coffee, for the third time today, and generously dotting concealer to soften the shape of the bags under your eyes before the media panel in the hotel ball room. You twisted your hair up into a loose bun over your boatneck sweater and jeans, never so happy that these panels let you get away with comfortable clothes. You slipped into a pair of heels to class the look up a bit just as your handlers arrived to escort you downstairs.

The event went well enough. Press events were always a little more stiff than the fan panels, for obvious reasons, but at least they were organized and usually ended on time. You didn't expect much attention. You were a relative unknown compared to your co-stars and powerhouse director and were only a supporting character. It didn't help the time go by any faster though, and you were starving. You sipped on your water frequently to pass the time and to fool your stomach into forgetting you hadn't had any real food since 1 o'clock. When the event ended at 9, you were famished. Suffering through another fifteen minutes of polite banter and group photos on stage, you finally won your release and headed straight for the elevator to go back to your room and order dinner. A hand darted in between the closing elevator doors and Sebastian slid into the elevator with an exaggerated look of relief that he'd somehow cheated Death.

"That was fun," he said, sarcastically, jutting his chin at the noisy ball room disappearing behind the closing doors. "Where you off to?"

"My room," you told him, pressing the button for your floor. "I'm starving. Another five minutes in there and you'd have heard my stomach singing the song of my people."

"Why don't you come with me?" he offered, reaching across you to press the lobby button. "The restauants are open til midnight. Getting room service this late, you gotta wonder how fresh it is. Besides, eating alone sucks."

"Well, gee," you started with your own sarcasm. "When you put it that way, thanks for making me feel bad about my life choices. Way to go, a-hole."

He sneered at you with a slight waggle of his head. "Ha ha. I meant for me, you self-absorbed little brat. It's not always about you, ya know."

The elevator doors opened to your floor. You raised an arrogant eyebrow his way as you stepped out the door. "You're a punk."

"Jerk," he scoffed, indignantly.

You smiled and waved good bye. "Whatever."

"Hey, come on," he called from behind you. You turned back to see him holding the elevator open. "Seriously, though. Dinner?"

You bit at the inside of your lower lip, hesitating for a moment. Eating alone in your room in your pajamas or dinner in the lobby with Sebastian Stan? It was a no brainer, but you didn't want to come off too eager. When he told you to "come on" three different times in three different tones, each more ridiculous and pathetic than the last, you gave in. The elevator buzzed an impatient alarm by the time you got back inside and Sebastian smiled like he'd won a game. Riding the elevator back downstairs, you gave him a side eye look.

"You're still a punk," you reminded him.

The elevator opened again and he motioned for you to go first as he pointed out, "'Punk' was my line."

"Well, my delivery was way better," you told him confidently, turning to head for the lobby restaraunts.

"You can't do it any better," he promised, smugly. "I already did it perfectly."

"We'll see who gets an Oscar first," you quipped before you were stopped in your tracks by several fans in the lobby.

Once they spotted Sebastian, there was no getting by them. He smiled graciously, accepting outstretched hands to hold and markers to sign memorabilia. You signed your name to the items pushed your way while the fans moved around, each trying to get a better picture or video on their phones. You were pretty sure the group of mostly girls was more interested in Seabstian than you and so you inched aside when you finished your signing. Sebastian caught up with all his signature requests and admired a couple small gifts from his fans. He posed for selfies and insisted you join in beside him for an overhead group photo for a pair of fans. Sebastian even took the photo himself. He stood by for a couple more pictures before he looked your way and waved you over again. You went back, a little reluctant to intrude in the fans' photo ops.

"Come on," he urged. "They're here for you too. Better get used to it."

He put his arm around your shoulder and you smiled while the flashes popped. Hotel staff had come over to observe the gathering and were beginning to shoo the group from the lobby. Ever gracious to his fans, Sebastian motioned for them to have another minute and smiled for a few last photos beside you. When the staff was finally able to herd the admirers away, Sebastian ushered you into the restauant with his hand lightly at the small of your back.

"See? That wasn't so bad," he commented while you waited for the hostess to seat you.

"You know they're pissed I ruined their photos of you," you told him as he motioned you ahead of him to follow the hostess.

"Don't worry," he said, dismissively as you arrived at your table. "They'll crop you out anyway," he added, bending to your ear and giving you a wink when he pulled out the chair for you to sit.

"Wow. What a nice guy," you mocked, taking the menu from the hostess as Sebastian sat down across from you. "You do wonders for my self esteem. Super glad I'm stuck with _you_ at dinner now."

He scoffed, giving you the evil eye over the top of his menu. You smirked and the two of you read over the menu silently. Drinks and dinner ordered, you chatted about your sight seeing from earlier and about the press panel. You complained about how hungry you were through the event and he made fun of you, telling you if you hadn't burned all those calories shivering at the palace you wouldn't be so hungry. You laughed and gave him a soft kick under the table. Over dinner, you were gushing about the art you saw and the two of you talked about how surreal the whole experience was. While you waited for dessert, you reached across the table to show him a few pictures you took on your phone. He pulled out his and you both were sharing and comparing when the last course came. You had his phone in your hand, zoomed in on the detail of a gilded lion when he gestured that it was okay to keep looking as you tried to hand it back.

"Just don't swipe left," he warned playfully.

"Good lord," you muttered. "I don't even wanna know what you have hiding in your photo album." He laughed and you added, "Unless you've got pics of Chris Evans in here...Hmm?"

"Aw, c'mon," he complained, grimacing before running a frustrated hand through his hair. "Another Chris Evans fan?"

"He's Captain America," you explained with a mischievous grin. "It's my patriotic duty."

"You know, Bucky Barnes is a patriot too, dammit," he protested, defensively, then scoffed. "I see how it is. You only hangout with me to get to him."

You raised your brow at the idea. "Hey, if it works," you shrugged, still swiping at and admiring the photos he took.

You paused for a bite of the decadent chocolate dessert you ordered. Going back to the photos, you moved to the next one and smiled fondly at the group shot of you and your co-stars in front of one of the palaces. You told him to send it to you later. The next one of Sebastian and his friend made you chuckle and you swiped again. You stopped for a moment, your eyes leveling a bit to wonder what the point of the picture might be. In the frame was you, rosy cheeked and the hair from under your hat pulled back by the wind, off by yourself and looking at something to your left. Way beyond you in the background was one of the halls or palaces, too out of fucus to determine which one. For all intents and purposes, it could have been a magazine promo you would have modeled for- some romantic fragrance ad or something in that vein. But the truth was, it looked like you had wrong place, wrong timed it and ruined his photo.

Passing the phone back, you apologized. "Sorry, guess I was in the way of that one."

"Oh," he said, taking a look at the screen. "Right."

"Hope you weren't counting on keeping that one, whatever it was," you said, meekly.

He gave a lopsided smile, looking down at his phone for a moment before turning his eyes up to you. "I was kinda hoping."

Your heart sank a little and you blurted out another apology. "I'm so sorry," you said, emphatically. "I feel awful now. Maybe there'll be some time and we can go back and-"

Sebastian reached out his hand across the table to rest comfortingly on yours. "It's okay," he interrupted, a light chuckle under his breath. "I got the picture I was after."

Your emabarrassment ended with a small laugh of relief. "Oh, thank god," you sighed. "For a minute there, I thought you might not..."

You trailed off, realizing his hand was still over yours. You looked down at your hands and then to him, your eyebrows arching up in a question you didn't have the words for yet. He didn't say anything either. He just sat across from you, his own eyes flitting down to the hands on the table and then back to you. A sheepish grin took over and he straightened up slowly, leaning back into his seat and withdrawing his hand.

"No?' he asked.

"What?" Your brow wrinkled in confusion.

"That's not okay?" he rephrased. "That I held your hand just then."

It did little to help organize your thoughts. You gave your head a small shake. "Did you mean to?" you asked, maybe a little more incredulous than you had meant it to sound.

Sebastian nodded and you felt the heat from the flush rising in your cheeks. "It's cute how you do that," he told you with a light handed gesture toward your face. "Your cheeks getting all pink when you get flustered."

You bit the inside of your lip, your face drawing in an odd mixture of surprise and abject horror. Your heart raced and your palms began to sweat. You swallowed down the lump in your throat just enough to ask, "You're joking, right?"

He had to be. He couldn't possibly be interested in you, still a relative nobody and certainly nothing special compared to the company he could keep. But you were struck by the sincerity of his slow head shake and instantly felt embarrassed again. You'd been attracted to this man since you met him, and now he was flirting with you? Jesus, what the hell was going on?

He leaned forward, layering his arms on the edge of the table and staring into your eyes. "You seem surprised," he suggested with a hint of a surprise himself.

"Yeah," you nodded, still off balance and barely able to string together a better response. "Surprised is a word."

"Why?" he asked, smiling at your loss of words.

"Exactly," you agreed. "Why? I mean, I'm just-"

"You're fantastic," he interrupted to finish your sentence. "Look at you," he insisted, gesturing up and down. "You're smart, funny, talented. You're fun to hang out with, you don't put up with my shit. Besides," he paused, looking a little nervous for once, "I mean, come on. You know you're beautiful."

If you couldn't already feel your heart beating in your throat you would have thought it had exploded. Your cheeks felt like they were on fire now. You remembered to breathe and you're mouth fell open to speak before you realized he'd put you at a loss for words again. All you could manage to do was cough out an awkward laugh and shake your head in disbelief. He sat across the table, still grinning at your humility. Here was everything you had been daydreaming about and you didn't know what to do with it. He did you a favor and spoke again.

"You don't feel the same way?" he asked. "Or there's already someone at home?"

"No," you answered quickly. You blinked and paused a beat, thinking you may have sounded too rushed. "I mean, I'm not seeing anyone."

"You just don't see yourself seeing me," he suggested, his tone turning down like he anticipated a rejection coming.

 _Oh, god_. "No, I hadn't th- Well, I mean, I-" You stopped fumbling and exhaled heavily through your nose, resting your forehead into your upturned palm on the table in defeat. "Wow. That was smooth."

Sebastian laughed softly. He reached out again, turning his hand under your palm and curling his fingers around yours. You picked up your head and flashed a bashful smile. He smiled charmingly in reply and you felt yourself melt when he brushed his thumb over the back of your hand. The quiet moment between you felt surprisingly natural. It was short lived, however, when the waitress returned with the bill. Sebastian removed his hand to take the book from her and reached for his wallet, insisting it was his treat. You took advantage of the break to return to your dessert and essentially hid there until it was finished and the waitress returned his credit card after paying the check.

Standing from the table, Sebastian waited for you to walk around from your seat. His hand was at your back again, leading you to the lobby. You waited quietly for the elevator, with him near your side. Inside the privacy of the car, you mustered up the nerve to speak again as you pressed the button for your floor.

"So," you hesitatingly began, "how would this even work?"

"I don't know," he shrugged casually. "Ideally, I'd call you and you would answer. I'd ask you to go places and do stuff. You'd say 'yes' and we'd go places, do stuff."

You couldn't help the snigger at his levity. "No," you said. "I mean, don't you think...dating...would make things complicated? Awkward? I mean, we don't even live in the same city."

The elevator doors opened and he motioned you out. You stopped outside the doors in the hallway and he pocketed his hands. "I think awkward with you might be kinda fun," he shrugged and you shook your head. "It doesn't have to be complicated. We've got a couple days left to hang out on the press tour, we can see some sights, try new things, get to know each other better. And for living in different cities? That's just a plane ticket, a long weekend trip or something."

He made it sound easy. He made it sound fun. The shoot was over and the movie in theaters. It wouldn't neccessarily complicate "working together". You had to admit, it might make the traveling even more fun to have a partner in crime like him. A smile tugged at one side of your mouth and you nodded to yourself, knowing you could actually have what you'd been dreaming about all these months.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and feedback always welcome. Leave them here on ao3 or fell free to message @whostheblondegirlwriting on tumblr.


	3. You Like That?

The lightning storm of camera flashes always made you a little nervous on the red carpet. As if trying to look graceful in heels and a gown while you don't look where you're going because you're constantly smiling "over here" wasn't bad enough, the partial blindness of your burned retinas always added an extra element of danger. Outdoor, day-lit red carpets weren't any trouble. It was the overpowering lighting rigs and flashes that usually started to give you a bit of a headache before you finished that slow walk at night or inside buildings. At least this premier was inside where it was warm.

A small, attentive smile was on your face the entire time, nodding along and patiently waiting for the translations of questions that didn't come in English. You saw the appreciation of some of the journalists when you thanked them in their native tongue, a little proud you apparently hadn't butchered the pronunciation too badly. Several questions here, a couple minutes posing there, and the pattern repeated as you made your way across the crowds. You liked the posing best. Besides being able to flaunt the red dress you were wearing, that hugged all the right places down to your knees, it was always fun to know there were great pictures and memories being made of your big nights and with your friends. The events were always so busy and rushed that you enjoyed clicking through the online photo galleries at the end of those nights, showered and comfy again in your hotel room or apartment, eating way too much room service or take out, and saving and sharing your favorite shots of what went by in a blur.

You posed for a batch of photos when you caught up on the carpet with your director. A fatherly hand on your back and several encouraging words and compliments among the frenetic atmosphere was an extra boost of confidence and had you wearing the brightest smile that night. Your handler ushered you along to the next group of reporters in line. Walking by your co-star Jessica, you reached out a hand to brush past her arm to say hello. You hadn't seen her yet today and she turned to give you a quick hug in between questions and before you got away. You traded hurried "I love your dress"es as you were lead away and you two shared a laugh when you could have jinxed each other.

Placed in front of another reporter, you waved to the crowd along the opposite wall when you heard someone shout your name. The fan part was easy. Coming up with original answers for questions you'd been asked dozens of times by dozens of different reporters was the trick. Mid-sentence, the crowd erupted into excited screams and you turned over your shoulder to peek down the line. Sebastian had stepped over to the fans and was signing autographs and taking photos behind you. The reporter noted the uproar and you made some casual comment about his popularity and him being easy to work with. You were just saying your goodbyes to the journalist when there was a hand at your elbow.

Turning to look down at your arm, you smiled seeing Sebastian waiting for you. With a gentle hand on the back of your arm he pulled you to the middle of the carpet and into the void where neither the press or fan sides of the room could hear. With one arm wrapped lightly around your waist, he gave you the standard "this is my co-star and I love them" celebrity hug and leaned in.

"You look amazing," he told you, turning his face to your ear and smiling.

The flashes erupted again from both edges of the carpet and you thanked him for the compliment, leaning in to be heard over the clamor that had started from the fans again. Sebastian stayed beside you, opening his posture but leaving his arm around you as you posed together for the photographers. You couldn't help your beaming smile. You caught a delicious whiff of his cologne and he was devastatingly handsome in a fitted, grey three-piece suit. You felt the brush of his thumb smoothing down your spine when you casually put your hand to rest between his shoulder blades and it made your heart summersault. It was a perfectly natural red carpet pose but you felt a little awkward in front of everyone and hoped you came off as cool as you tried to play it.

You turned your head to his, saying just loud enough for him only and through a fixed smile, "This is a little weird, standing here like this."

"No, it's great," he insisted, raising a hand to wave and acknowledge a fan's intricate homemade sign in the back of the crowd. "Nobody suspects a thing."

You made a little nervous laugh and the two of you shifted slightly to face the second half of the photographers. "If you say so."

"No, really. Watch this," he said to your ear.

Sebastian stepped aside, leaving you to get some direction from your handler, while he turned to find Jessica working the crowd just behind him. He put a hand on her shoulder for her attention and gave her the same co-star half-hug and saying hello. He leaned in with her for a few seconds worth of fan cell phone pics before his handler was trying to corral him back in line. He dismissed himself with a quick hug again and an air kiss at her cheek as he crossed the carpet back to the press side. He paused on his way to grab your hand in his, putting his weight forward on one foot as he tipped forward and offered your cheek the same affection he gave to Kate's. Except this time, his lips connected with the apple of your cheek.

Bending to your ear, Sebastian whispered, "That dress- my god." and you prayed your cheeks didn't blush any deeper than the rouge already there. He covered the play by patting his other hand in a friendly gesture on top of the one he held and said loudly enough to be heard over the crowd, "It's good to see you, too. We'll catch up inside." You smiled and waved as he was ushered along and realized- no one suspected a thing.

It was time for you to meet the next reporter and your people escorted you down the carpet again. You passed behind Sebastian, getting half a head turn from him and a side eye to watch you go by. Standing just a couple feet further down the row, you greeted your new interviewer in Chinese. Waiting for the translation of a rather lengthy question, your hearing was drawn to the sound of Sebastian's voice say your name nearby.

"[y/n]? Oh, she's great. Yeah. Keep your eye on her. She's gonna be big."

Wet hair twisted in a towel on top of your head, you were sitting in a fluffy hotel bathrobe, cross-legged on your bed. You made good use of room service and free Wi-Fi, tray of food in front of you and iPad in your lap. There was no shortage of photos from the premier online. You swiped, tapped, and saved your way through several pages. Time difference be damned, you texted some photos of you to your best friend back home, #datdresstho. When the text box returned a string of middle finger emojis you smiled, pleased to have woken up her, no doubt, hung over ass on her Saturday morning. You sent back a kissing face and reminded her you love her, earning you a heart in return.

You had just opened Instagram to share a couple photos, when the room phone rang and you answered. You smiled just hearing Sebastian say 'hi'. He asked what you were doing and you told him about your late dinner and internet creeping.

"Wow. You're kind of a narcissist, huh?" he joked.

"Someday I'll be old and haggard and scooting around my nursing home in a housecoat and I'll want to remember those few years when I was young and pretty and people gave me couture," you explained. "Nothing wrong with that."

"You did look pretty hot in that dress though," he noted.

"That's what I'm talking about," you enthusiastically agreed. "Now you get it."

"Hey, you ever see 'Casablanca'?" he asked.

You gave a small snort of laughter at the out of nowhere question. "Um, yeah."

"You ever seen it dubbed in Mandarin?" He didn't wait for you to answer. "Turn on channel 32. You gotta see this."

Curiosity peaked, you grabbed the TV remote and flipped to the right channel. There was silence on the phone for a minute as you watched.

"Are you watching?" he asked, clearly interested in the movie himself.

"Yeah," you answered slowly, a little confused by the spectacle. "This is wrong on so many levels. I need Bogie’s voice. I can't."

He laughed loudly from the other end of the line. "Are you kidding? It's so wrong, it's perfect."

"But Ingrid Bergman's eyebrows are on point," you noted, impressed. "Just look at her."

Sebastian laughed again. The movie was fascinating in its oddity and you absentmindedly picked off small pieces of food to eat as you watched. There was a long silence over the phone, it was mesmerizing.

"Play the Marseillaise...Play it!" Sebastian said over the phone, his voice placing the line on top of its overdubbed counterpart perfectly. You giggled and that's how you came to watch Casablanca with Sebastian Stan- not snuggled together on a couch at home, but in separate rooms through a landline in China, narrating the parts of the film you two could remember in time. It was absurd and silly and absolutely perfect.

The closing shot dissolved and you sighed happily as the credits rolled, muting the TV. "I wanna make movies like that," you said, with an affirming nod just for yourself. "Something clever and charming that people love and it’s still as perfect and wonderful as this one is 70-whatever years later. God, does anyone even write movies like that anymore?"

"Sometimes they do," he replied. "You'll find one. Then you'll probably be rubbing your Oscar in my face."

"I'll be sure to thank you in my acceptance speech for believing in me," you promised, smugly. "Oh, speaking of Best Actor nominees- that was pretty smooth there on the red carpet tonight, sir."

You heard his chuckle on the other end and smiled. "Yeah. You like that?"

"Pretty smooth, Mr. Stan," you admitted. "Pret-ty smoooth."

"Those acting classes really paid off," he quipped.

You laughed. "Money well spent," you said, approvingly.

"It's just too bad that's all I got out of it," he said and you could almost see the shrug in his voice. "I might've tried for an ass grab if we weren't surrounded."

You felt the blush come into your cheeks and you pulled the wet towel off your head, as if some of the heat might escape that way. You fumbled for a beat, a little too heart-eyed to say anything clever back. You managed to get an "oh, really" out before you bit your lip.

"I mean, come on," he insisted. "That dress."

The butterflies looped and spiraled in your stomach at the thought of him copping a feel during the event and you let out a titter in a moment of shyness. "Yeah. You like that?" you smiled, sending his own words back to him.

It was Sebastian's turn to chuckle and he agreed. "Yeah. I liked it a lot," he said. "That better be one you get to keep. And if not, I'll buy it for you."

Good lord, the things he says that just set your heart aflutter. You'd always liked handsome Seb, sassy Seb, method Seb, and dorky Seb. You're new favorite though, by far, was flirty Seb. "Maybe I'll keep it then," you suggested, nonchalantly.

"Good idea," he seconded. "Maybe I'll take you someplace to wear it again."

"Sounds good," you told him, trying not to sound too smitten.

"You know that doesn't count right?" he asked, his tone still light but a bit more sincere. "That little peck on the red carpet. That's not a first kiss."

You couldn't help a giggle or the impossibly wide grin on your face. Just his lips brushing your cheekbone was enough to send an excited shiver all the way to your toes. Imagining a kiss from him- a real, honest to god, unscripted, unrehearsed, when the moment's right kiss- could make a girl swoon.

"What would you call it?" you asked.

"A teaser trailer?" he offered.

You snickered and promptly sighed at catching the time. "I hate to cut you off," you said. "But I'm beat and I still have to comb out my hair and stuff before bed."

"It is kinda late," he admitted, maybe a bit reluctant.

"This was fun, though," you smiled. "Weird, but fun."

"I'll take weird but fun," he laughed. "Goodnight, [y/n]."

 

 

 


	4. Stan The Man

You swore you had the handwriting of a serial killer. It was always more practical than pretty. The one thing you had going for you was a few well practiced versions of your signature. Your personal assistant/marketer/roommate had helped you find a style for fans and one for business, "you know, for posterity" because people want to be able to " _read_ your soon to be famous chicken scratch". She was right, as she was about most things, and that's why the adorably geeky marketing major, who answered your roommate ad, became your PA when you suddenly, and admittedly unpreparedly, found your star rising quickly. It was a wonderful happenstance she had also become your BFF in LA.

It was your formerly murderous looking John Hancock that made you a little wary to try your hand at calligraphy at one of the cultural experiences scheduled during your visit to Beijing. You wouldn't have pegged yourself as coordinated enough for the elegant writing, but with some guiding hands and patience from your hosts, you left with a few pieces of parchment anyone would be proud to hang on a fridge back home. It didn't hurt to hear a few encouraging words from Sebastian as he dipped and inked beside you.

You lost track of each other, whisked away in different directions at the final junket for the trip that afternoon. You caught up late that evening at a karaoke bar with the rest of your cast mates for a goodbye to China before everyone's flights departed the next day and split people in different directions. Sipping "Chinese vodka" and toasting your trip's success in the public privacy of a make shift VIP area, you cheered on Sebastian and a couple others who braved the spotlights of the stage. Sebastian's performance of "Don't Stop Believing" literally put you and your friends on your feet, as you all sang along loudly and you with your arm wrapped around your co-star Jessica's shoulder. The selfies were epic and the songs caught on video- hilarious.

You didn't complain that the lighthearted and boozy atmosphere of hugs and photos and playfulness with everyone made a good excuse for the same with Sebastian. It seemed completely natural that you should also pose for a few pics and selfies with your smiling face cheek to cheek with Sebastian's and with an arm around each other like you'd done with the others. When you were dancing with Jessica and your other co-star Matt, it didn't raise an eyebrow when Sebastian joined in. And the way people shuffled in and out of seats around the table and booth you guys had taken over to sing or dance, it wasn't suspicious at all to see you and Sebastian occasionally pressed together on the booth bench between the others throughout the late night party. No one would have suspected several of those smiles you flashed through the night came from Sebastian's leg brushing yours or his hand comfortably on your thigh under the table. It was completely acceptable for his arm to have casually ended up behind your neck on the back of the booth two or three times and nothing for him to turn his face into your ear and give you a few compliments, or say anything else at all for that matter, because of the noise in the bar.

There were some sappy moments brought on by the baijiu by the end of the night and the fact that not everyone was going on to the next leg of the tour. You were headed home and had a couple parts to read for in the next week. Jessica was finished and home for a few weeks before starting her next project. The two of you had become close since filming and on the tour. Her hugs were especially strong and her eyes a little teary more than once. The others would make another stop without you.

Back at the hotel, hugs and friendly cheek kisses made their rounds as you all dispersed from a packed elevator to your respective floors and rooms. The elevator buzzed with Matt's foot wedged in the door for him to hug Jessica goodbye while you finished your goodbyes to the others. Stopping by Sebastian on your way out of the elevator, you got the same friendly treatment you received from everyone else, but you expected nothing more. You and Jessica walked hand in hand, and a little drunkenly, down the hall to your rooms with a final parting wave to the others as the elevator doors closed. You swore you saw a wink from Sebastian.

Crawling into bed, you folded the covers over you and snapped off the lamp beside you. Your head was a little fizzy from the night's frivolities and you sighed when you remembered your international flight meant being at the airport before 10am. You stretched over for the phone on the nightstand and called the front desk for a wakeup call. Just to be safe, you programmed the alarm clock, too- or at least you hoped you did it right. Finally settling back into your pillow, you're phone chimed a new text and you groaned tiredly.

 **Stan the Man** : Still up?

You squinted resentfully at the brightness of your screen in the dark room. "Sort of" you mumbled and typed.

 **Stan the Man** : Ha! I won't keep you. Just saying goodnight

 **You** : Aww:) That's sweet u can keep me:)

 **Stan the Man** : I plan on it

 **You** : That's nice:))

 **Stan the Man** : Lol. You might be a little drunk. Your emojis are showing

 **You** : Your a little drunk

 **Stan the Man** : Guilty...a little

 **Stan the Man** : *you're

 **You** : No you did not just

 **Stan the Man** : 0:)

 **Stan the Man** : What time's your flight?

 **You** : High noon. Pew pew!

 **Stan the Man** : Lol you're killing me

 **Stan the Man** : Text me when you get up? Maybe we can get breakfast before I go

 **You** : Mmm breakfast

 **Stan the Man** : Sweet dreams, beautiful

 **You** : Goodnight handsome;)

The sun finally returning to the sky gave you an excuse for the sunglasses. It was easier to try and look cool in a dark pair of shades than to put in the effort to cover up the tired bags under your eyes with makeup. Pushing through the front door of the hotel, you waved and smiled to a group of fans collected on the opposite sidewalk. Your handler gave you a limit of five minutes to meet and greet before you absolutely had to be at the airport and you scooted quickly across the street with a security guard in tow to sign autographs and pose for a few photos with fans of your movie.

Riding in the back of the SUV to the airport, you could almost fall asleep again with your head propped up on your fist near the window. You knew sleep was out of the question till you got on the plane and you sat up to take your phone from your coat pocket for a distraction. You tapped open your messages to reread your texts from the morning.

 **Stan the Man** : You up?

 **Stan the Man** : Pssst...hey

 **Stan the Man** : Wake up wake up wake up

 **Stan the Man** : Gotta go. Sorry I missed you. Have a safe trip and text me when you land.

You sighed, mad at yourself for sleeping like the dead and not being up soon enough to have breakfast and say goodbye. On the other hand, you really did need the sleep and were grateful you hadn't slept through the alarm or wakeup call. You didn't think Sebastian would have his phone on in the air, but you shrugged and decided to send him a message to make yourself feel better.

 **You** : I'm sorry I missed you:( I'm terrible at mornings. Hope you have a good trip.

You got through the airport with realitively no trouble. Your intercontinental flight was smooth and you napped through most of it. Your multipurpose roommate met you at the airport to drive you home. Once there, you dug through the large pile of mail that had accumulated in your absence and made a few phone calls to let your family know you were back. After a late dinner, you went to bed.

The next morning, bleary eyed and a little disoriented, you woke to the chime of your phone. Unlocking the screen and opening your text mesages, you sat up enough in bed to prop yourself up against the headboard to reply to your message.

 **Stan the Man** : Good morning, beautiful

 **You** : Good morning:)

 **Stan the Man** : How was your flight?

 **You** : No complaints. And yours? What time is it there?

 **Stan the Man** : Fuck if I know anymore. It's dark. Does that count?

You gave your phone a pouty frown and a quiet "aww". You knew the feeling of just being completely over international travel all too well.

 **You** : Aww:( poor baby

 **Stan the Man** : Can't wait to get home

 **You** : Not gonna lie- sleeping in my own bed again was pretty awesome

 **Stan the Man** : Jealous

 **You** : You can do it!

 **Stan the Man** : Lol thanks

 **You** : Only one more week

 **Stan the Man** : Yeah

 **Stan the Man** : Any chance you'll be on the right coast soon?

You smiled a giddy smile at the thought. He really did mean it. He was actually serious about weekend trips and whatever else to see you again. If only you had the time, you'd hop a flight as soon as he was back.

 **You** : No:( I'll be on the left coast for awhile

 **Stan the Man** : That's the wrong side

 **You** : Lol my side's just as good as yours

 **Stan the Man** : That's an argument you'll lose

 **You** : You can't beat my surf and sun

 **Stan the Man** : Come out to NY and I'll prove you wrong

 **You** : Are you throwing gauntlets this early in the morning?

 **Stan the Man** : It's night time here

 **Stan the Man** : Gauntlet- thrown

 **You** : Lol

 **You** : [puts up fists] fight me!

 **Stan the Man** : You're gonna see me in NY and you're gonna like it

 **You** : I may see you in NY and I may listen to your argument

 **Stan the Man** : That's not a no

 **Stan the Man** : We'll argue more later. I'm beat. Talk to you soon.

 **You** : K good night:)

 **Stan the Man** : Good night


	5. Ms. Golightly

Sleeping in on a Sunday is wonderful no matter who you are. You didn't necessarily have a long, late, or rough night, but there's something to be said for snuggling into a soft pillow and warm blankets after any day. Which is why you were a little aggravated to be woken by the sound of a new message on your phone when the sun had barely broken the sky.

 **Stan the Man** : I can't sleep

 **You** : I was :/

 **Stan the Man** : I'm sorry!!

 **You** : -sigh- It's okay:) anything wrong?

 **Stan the Man** : Jet lag

 **Stan the Man** : I'm so messed up

 **You** : Ducking jet lag

 **You** : Stupid phone

 **You** : Ducking

 **You** : Argh!!! F u c k I n g autocorrect!!

 **Stan the Man** : Lmao! Language

 **You** : Sorrynotsorry

 **Stan the Man** : How was your thing?

 **You** : Good- I think. Idk it's kinda weird

 **Stan the Man** : What? The part?

 **You** : Yes maybe and idk

 **Stan the Man** : Nice

 **You** : Involved. That's the word. I read scenes from 4 different pics, 4 diff genres, prob like 4 diff ways each and then finally their part. All that work then they say "we'll call you". Seriously

 **Stan the Man** : All I heard was "foooooour!"

 **You** : Ha! Ikr??

 **Stan the Man** : That's a bit much

 **You:** Yep

 **You** : What time is it?

 **Stan the Man** : Like 4

 **You** : I see what you did there;)

 **Stan the Man** : Sadly it's true

 **Stan the Man** : I miss your face:(

 **You** : I miss your face 

 **Stan the Man** : Wish you'd have stayed on the tour

 **You** : Yeah well when I get top bill someday I may get a whole tour

 **Stan the Man** : Come see me in New York 

 **Stan the Man** : We'll see a show. I'll take you around town. Buy you a slice

 **You** : Tempting

 **Stan the Man** : Come see me

 **You** : I can't. Too busy

 **Stan the Man** : Don't make me beg

 **Stan the Man** : I'm not above causing a scene

 **You** : I wish I could but I'm too busy right now:(

 **Stan the Man** : When are you free?

 **You** : Not for 3 weeks

 **Stan the Man** : So I'll see you in 3 weeks

 **You** : I can try

 **Stan the Man** : Do. Or do not. There is no try

 **Stan the Man** : But seriously- do

 **You** : Lol okay

 **Stan the Man** : Do you like Star Wars?

 **Stan the Man** : Tell me now. Don't break my heart later

 **You** : Yeah

 **You** : Omg you're ridiculous! Yes- I like Star Wars.

 **You** : Dork

 **Stan the Man** : Watch it with me? It'll be just like Casablanca but we'll know what they're saying

 **You** : Are you serious?

 **Stan the Man** : Very

 **Stan the Man** : About Star Wars

 **Stan the Man** : Always

 **You** : Alright. I'm getting up

 **Stan the Ma** n: That's my girl:)

 **You** : Can't believe I'm doing this at 7 am on a Sunday morning

 **Stan the Man** : Thank you 0:)

 **Stan the Man** : I'll call you in a minute

Excitement is a funny thing. You're happy or nervous and your stomach is fluttering but it's in knots. It's an awful and wonderful conundrum most of the time. But getting off the plane at LaGuardia, the excitement of being in New York was mostly the nervous kind. Besides the worry about the press spotting you, or worse, spotting you and Sebastian, it was the first time you two would really be alone together it could be magical and romantic or it could be an absolute mistake that never should have happened in the first place. You never really know someone till you spend time alone with them.

 **You** : At the gate now. Waiting to deplane

 **Stan the Man** : Yay!

 **Stan the Man** : Let me know when you get to the hotel

 **You** : K

It was your first real trip to New York. Of course, you booked a room at The Plaza. It's what any sensible girl with the means in The Big Apple would do to be sure she got the most cliché New York City experience. Riding in the back of your taxi in the afternoon bumper to bumper, you all of a sudden weren't so bitter about LA traffic.

 **You** : Traffic here- omg

 **Stan the Man** : Ha!

 **You** : It's just like home. Maybe not so bad? Maybe worse?

 **Stan the Man** : Pro tip- subways or walk

 **Stan the Man** : Hope you brought comfortable shoes

 **You:** Oh, I'm a girl. You know I brought shoes;)

Checked in to your room, you went to the window to take in the view of Central Park. It cost a few extra bucks for the windows to face that way, but it was so worth it. You snapped a quick pic to send to your roomie/PA to let her know you arrived safely. You sent the same to Sebastian.

 **Stan the Man** : Nice

 **Stan the Man** : What name are you under?

 **Stan the Man** : Please be Holly Golightly. Tell me it's Holly Golightly

 **You** : It's Holly Golightly

 **Stan the Man** : YES

 **Stan the Man** : I fucking knew it

 **You** : Lmao

 **Stan the Man** : Let's get an early dinner. I'll show you around

 **You** : Sounds good

 **Stan the Man** : Be ready in half an hour. Comfy shoes

 **You** : Comfy shoes

The room phone rang beside the bed. You answered and were greeted by the front desk.

"Ms. Golightly, you have a visitor in the lobby. Paul Varjack to see you."

You smiled like an idiot and covered your eyes in mild embarrassment. You thought you could hear a little annoyance in the older man's voice and you wondered how many times that poor bastard had made this exact same phone call in his career. You thanked him and said you'd be right down. Grabbing your coat off the bed, you hurried down the hall to the elevator. When the elevator doors opened, you saw him, standing at the end of the front desk, leaning an elbow into the polished marble and his smile broadening from underneath his black ballcap when he saw you. He crossed to meet you halfway.

"Mr. Varjack," you giggled.

"Ms. Golightly," he said, offering his arm.

You hooked your hand around his arm and he led you out onto the street. Walking through the busy streets of downtown Manhattan, you talked about your flight and what the two of you have been doing on your separate coasts lately. True to his word to "buy you a slice", you stopped for dinner at a pizza parlor and he bought you a giant piece of New York style pizza loaded with your favorite toppings.

You wondered around the city for a few hours, taking in the sights and the atmosphere. A stroll through Central Park, Time Square, and down Broadway. You were glad for having packed at least one pair of sensible shoes. And you started to see right away why he liked it there. LA was busy, but in New York you could float in the crowd. Everyone and everything moved so fast, no one had time to look at you twice, or, if they did, they had no time to care. The anonymity was refreshing. And the company wasn't bad either.

He walked you back to your hotel. Laughing as he told you a joke Matt had told him on the press tour, you reluctantly, and a little slowly, went to the bank of elevators to go back to your room. He pressed the call button for you and leaned in to place a kiss on your cheek. You felt the soft heat come to your face and he smiled, which only made the feeling worse.

"See?" he asked. "New York's not so bad."

"I never said it was 'bad'," you defended yourself, "it's just not as...LA as LA is."

"That's why it's better," he told you, as if you'd just proved his point for him. "Just wait. You haven't even seen some of the best parts yet."

The elevator doors opened and he told you to sleep in- he'd pick you up for lunch after he did a spot on Good Morning America. You stepped inside and pressed the button for your floor.

"Good night," he smiled. "I'm glad you came."

"Me too."

"Dress warm tomorrow," he reminded you. "It's gonna be cold."

You nodded and smiled your understanding as the doors slid shut, his smile beaming back at you until the elevator was completely shut and you were gone. Walking back to your room you giggled to yourself, thinking about tomorrow. You felt the little butterflies in your stomach soaring and you figured you could wear shorts in December in New York and still feel warm the way he made you blush.


	6. I Love New York

There's a red carpet pose that's your favorite. The one where he hides his hands in his pockets and sets his weight on one leg while the other sits forward just so much, his body leans with a slight angle, and he gives this thin, smoldering smile to the crowd that's just enough vintage Hollywood charm and modern playful swagger to set you heart racing and thoughts thinking. You wondered if he knew what it did to the world and decided that he did and that he was completely, willfully reckless about it. And you loved it.

The TV showed a clip of Sebastian giving that pose to the cameras outside the Good Morning America studio. Recorded earlier, the clip played as the host narrated an introduction for their celebrity guest. The show ran a short clip from your movie as the host spoke and the video switched to a smiling Sebastian, generously signing autographs on the sidewalk for his fans before staff ushered him inside. And then the live shot came- Sebastian sitting on the end of a couch, smiling graciously as he was introduced to the viewers.

You knew this routine. Sebastian's spot on GMA took all of about ten minutes if you put it together. It really was ridiculous how early your day has to start for all the work to be done that goes in to a tiny ten minute interview. But seeing his smiling face on TV, looking devilishly handsome in a grey suit with a blue tie that made his eyes pop, made the trouble worth it.

You woke up early, ordered room service, and watched from your bed while you ate. "God, he looks good in grey," you said to no one but yourself, as you picked a grape out of your fruit salad. You couldn't help the smile on your face as you watched him talk about the movie for the umpteenth time like it was the first. When the show went to commercial, you sent him a text, figuring he'd see it later.

 **You** : Dat suit tho

You tossed the phone down on the bed and went back to your breakfast. You were surprised when your phone chimed a new message arriving almost immediately.

 **Stan the Man** :  ;)

 **You** : I'm just sayin'

The show came back from commercial to a wide shot of the set that included Sebastian. You were pretty sure you saw him give a side eye to his phone as he slipped it into his pants pocket as the host welcomed the viewers back. You guessed he saw your second message.

"And if you're just joining us this morning, we're talking with Romanian born actor, Sebastian Stan, about his latest project- The Martian. Welcome again, Sebastian."

"Hello," he smiled, with a small wave to the camera.

"Dork," you muttered through a smile at the TV.

"This has been a big deal for you," the host went on. "You just came back from a press tour in Europe and Asia, where your movie premiered to huge box office numbers."

"Yeah," he agreed, straightening up in his seat a little. "It's been such a great experience, the whole thing. It's a great story and the people I got to work with were just fantastic. Ridley Scott- I mean, what can I say, the man is brilliant. It was his vision that's really made this film the success that it is."

The host went on about how people have raved about the movie and Sebastian threw a look over his shoulder to the fans outside the window behind them. The gathered crowd, mostly female in the front, went wild and he waved at them with a big smile. You shook your head and imagined how funny it would have been if you'd have thought about it earlier and gone down to join the crowd.

"They love you!" the host gushed.

"I love _them_!" Sebastian replied with an enthusiastic raise of his brow and smile.

 You laughed. _God_ , _he's cute._

"Yeah, no," Sebastian went on. "They really are great. They're amazing fans. They're the best."

"People really do love the characters you play," the host agreed. "They've been following you since your days on television- TJ, Jefferson- and stayed with you to the big screen. You've got a rather ravenous Internet fan base. I see, out the window today, a couple marriage proposals on signs out there."

Sebastian turned to look for the signs. "Wow. Really?" he laughed.

"Yeah," the host chuckled along. "Will you be accepting any offers today?"

"No," Sebastian answered, firm but friendly, holding up a hand. "No, no, no. But the offers are sweet."

"So, how 'bout it?" the host asked. "Anyone special keeping you of the market?"

There it was- the blush on your cheeks. Sebastian closed his eyes and ducked his head as he let out a coughing titter and shook his head. You found yourself biting your lip in anticipation of his response and turned up the volume on the TV quickly. He straightened up, his face just barely shaded with a hint of red as he looked back at his host. The tip of his tongue appeared and wetted his lower lip before his teeth bit down.

"Yeah, actually," he said, a little sheepishly and pushing his hair behind his ear with one hand. "There is someone that I'm getting to know."

"Who's the lucky girl?" the host tried to prod.

"No," Sebastian playfully frowned with a shake of his head. "We're not gonna do that."

"So, no names- but would you say that you're off the market?"

Sebastian's head bobbed in a nod. "I would say that."

"So, it's getting serious?"

"It's new," Sebastian said, thoughtfully. "It's early, but we're having fun just seeing what happens."

"Is she famous? An actress? Or are you worried the celebrity thing will be an issue?"

"No, pretty sure that's not an issue," he said. "At the end of the day, we're just two people that like each other, you know. We watch movies together, eat pizza. I like to think that celebrity has nothing to do with it."

"We saw you texting on the break," the host pointed out. "Was that her? Is she watching?"

"Yeah," Sebastian chuckled, maybe a little embarrassed at the topic. "Yeah, I didn't think she'd be up, but she's watching." Sebastian glanced into the camera with an adorable, lopsided smile still on his face.

"Well, I gotta be honest with you," the host said. "I think I just heard millions of fangirl hearts break."

"I'm sorry," Sebastian apologized, holding up his palms helplessly and shrugging.

The host turned to the camera, prepping the viewers for the next commercial break. As the shot went wide to show the full set and the waving fans outside, Sebastian squared his shoulders to the camera. He sat up straight, raised one eyebrow and gazed seductively into the camera lens while he smoothed his hand down the front of his tie and tugged at the lapels of his suit jacket. You burst out into laughter, slapping a hand over your mouth as you folded forward to hide your giddiness in the mattress. You were pretty sure you heard all the ovaries in the world explode at once, none louder than your own. You grabbed your phone for one more message.

 **You** : Suit porn

 **Stan The Man** : Yeah. You like that?

"You're such a dork!" was the first thing you said to him as he stuck out his elbow for you to grab when you stepped out of the elevator.

"I can't believe you woke up to watch that," he groaned in mild embarrassment, his head lolling back exaggeratedly as he escorted you through the lobby.

"It was a good interview up until that part," you joked as you walked through the door he opened for you.

You had lunch at a small cafe in Tribeca where you spent time teasing him about his interview that morning and listening to him talk about New York. You both shared stories about how you spent your Thanksgiving and some about family and traditions growing up as you walked around the city. By sunset, you'd found yourself at Rockefeller Center. Snapping pics of the giant Christmas tree and decor around, you snuggled close to Sebastian for a commemorative selfie with the famous tree behind you.

Against your better judgment, you let him talk you into ice skating. You tried to argue you were too fantastically uncoordinated to skate. You couldn't refuse the way he begged and pouted, reassuring you the odds of dying were much slimmer than you imagined. After a few locked knees laps of the rink, you started to relax and enjoy yourself. There were a few graceless stumbles and flinches, but Sebastian kept you on your feet. You held hands, gliding around in circles, Sebastian tugging your hand up or wrapping a quick arm around your waist to keep you from falling. It was the most nerve racking fun you'd ever had.

A little exhausted after the skating and the cold, you opted for a cab ride back to your hotel. Seeing a small shiver go through you as you hid your hands under your arms, Sebastian hugged his arm around your shoulders. Cuddled underneath his arm, you realized, was a very comfortable place to be and the thought warmed your face.

He held the cab at the curb, telling the driver he'd be right back. Sebastian held your gloved hand in his as he walked you across the lobby to the elevators. He pressed the call button and glanced at you, smiling while you waited together. There was a kind of awkwardness you couldn't quite pin down and you pressed your lips together while you checked the lights on the wall to see where the elevator was.

"You're cheeks are all red," he pointed out.

They were red from the cold but the observation made you flush and you hoped your cheeks didn't get any brighter than he already saw. You ducked your head nervously and you heard him chuckle. You looked back up at the numbers on the wall when you heard the ding of the arriving car. Turning to say goodnight, Sebastian was close by your side, his lips pulled back in a warm grin. He leaned in, placing a gentle, and almost hesitant, kiss on your lips that took you a little by surprise.

"Oh," you breathed out quietly, blinking and your heart racing in your chest.

He laughed softly with a boyish smile. "Too soon?"

You shook your head. "No. No, just- um, a little surprised, I think."

"Sorry," he said, a bit humbly. "You weren't ready. We could do another take, if you want."

You laughed at the suggestion of first kisses getting second takes and your heart leapt at the idea of another kiss. "Sure. Why not?"

Sebastian came close again, glancing down for a moment to watch where he tentatively placed his hands on your hips under you coat. You bit your lower lip in nervous anticipation as he leaned forward again. He paused, his lips just a breath from yours and you lifted your chin to cover the distance. You could feel his smile against you lips and you curled your fingers around the backs of his arms, lost in the moment and oblivious to the departure of your elevator without you. Perfectly in sync, you both parted your lips, inviting the other in. Your tongues danced slowly for a moment before he pulled back to see your face. He looked down at you with an odd frown.

"I don't know," he said and you worried instantly that you were a terrible kisser. "Did that work for you? Because we could do another one."

You laughed and swatted playfully at his chest. "You're such a dork."

He still looked concerned as he went on. "I just wanna be sure," he insisted. "I mean, I wanna get this shot right and if I have to stand here all night in the lobby and make out with you to be sure, then, by God, I'll do it."

If you laughed anymore, you'd probably have been in tears. "The meter's running," you reminded him.

"Yeah, yeah," he grumbled and rolled his eyes. Sebastian bent his head down for a final, sweet kiss and flashed you the most charming smile.

"Think about what you want to do tomorrow," he instructed, stepping back and calling the elevator again for you.

You nodded. "I will."

"See a show, go somewhere, whatever you wanna do," he promised, hands in his coat pockets and walking backward toward the lobby doors. He stopped and took a step forward again to ask, "Hey, by the way, how you likin' New York?"

The elevator returned and you stepped half in to hold the door. Flashing your best smile, you told him, "I love New York."


	7. Make It Worth It

Going home never seemed so sigh worthy. In fact, getting off a plane in Los Angeles from just about anywhere was usually such a relief. The only exception had always been going back to LA after trips and holidays back home with your family. Add leaving New York to the short list of journeys that left you feeling a little mopey to be home. Your long weekend in the East coast metropolis hadn't been long enough. Four days with Sebastian Stan and the bright lights of the big city had melted your heart. It was 2,469 miles from LaGuardia to your gate at LAX. Five and a half hours, or less with a good wind from his city to yours. Numbers had never seemed so depressing.

You sent Sebastian a text after you touched down, a quick note from the back of your car to say you were almost home. A quick moment to feel connected again. You had just seen him the night before, an early dinner and tickets for 'Kinky Boots' at The Al Hirschfeld Theater as the punctuation to your guided tour of New York. But, like a love sick puppy, you were already pouting about having left. It couldn't be helped. You had a call back for a part in two days and a few other appointments on your calendar you had to come home for. It didn't make it any less disappointing, though. Especially when you left not having any real idea about when you might see him again. This was exactly as hard as you thought it could be.

The night of your call back reading, Sebastian phoned to see how it went. That he had remembered when it was and thought to call made you swoon. The reading had went well, you thought, a screen test with a recently cast male lead in an ensemble comedy from the Coen brothers. You expected to hear one way or the other soon. In the meantime, you had a few TV appearances ahead of you to finish promoting your film and a couple phone interviews for the same. You chatted with Sebastian, keeping in touch over Christmas by phone.

"You know, Indiana's only a couple hours away," Sebastian pointed out on Christmas Eve.

You had gone home for the holiday. In fact, Indianapolis was barely an hour and a half from New York. A tidbit that had you biting at your thumbnail as you sat on the counter of your mom's kitchen eating candied pecans off the baking sheets set out to cool.

"What are you doing New Year's Eve?" he asked.

"Besides being disappointed the question didn't come in the form of a song?" you asked and he laughed on the other end of the phone. "Nothing fancy. The family stays up to watch the ball drop together. Maybe play some cards or watch a movie and eat a lot of food before that. Pretty low key."

"If I sing it, will you come out for New Year's?"

You giggled at the question. "I don't know," you teased. "I suppose I'd have to hear it first."

"I'll do it," he promised, "but you have to come out here."

"No no no," you shook your head, stealing another pecan. "You can't expect me to make a deal like that. What if you half ass it? One does not just hop flights in the madness of holiday travel season for half assed."

"Say you'll do it and I'll make it worth it," he assured you.

"I offer my conditional promise to try and come out, as long as it wouldn't be a disappointment to my family that I abandoned them, and _if-_ and that's a very big if, you sing it with feeling," you countered.

"Call your travel agent," he said arrogantly and you laughed. You heard him clear his throat obnoxiously before he serenaded you through the phone, "Maybe I'm crazy to suppose- I'd ever be the one you chose-"

"Oh my god," you marveled as he went on.

"Out of a thousand invitations- You received," he sang, ignoring your commentary. "Aah, but in case I stand one little chance-"

"Oh my god, this is actually happening," you gushed before covering your slacked open smile with your hand.

"Here comes the jackpot question in advance- What are you doing New Year's- New Year's Eve?" he crooned.

You shouldered your phone to your ear and applauded. "Oh my god," you said again, louder and in absolute awe that he did it and did it so well.

"How's that for feeling?" he challenged, smuggly.

Your mother called in from the dining room, where she was finishing some last minute wrapping before dinner, to ask what all the commotion was in there. Taking another pecan you giggled and told Sebastian to hold on, tipping the phone away from your mouth.

"Mo-omm? Can I go to New York for New Year's Eve?" you called out, like a whining brat, while Sebastian laughed.

"Is that Sebastian boy going to be there?" she yelled back, full of fake motherly worry.

"Yes, ma'am," you nodded with a smile, popping another pecan into your mouth as the laughter got louder in your ear.

"Ask your father," she replied.

"I have to ask my father," you parroted, matter of factly.

It took a moment for Sebastian's laugh to wind down. "Is he gonna say yes?"

"I don't know," you fiegned worry. "He hated 'Hot Tub Time Machine'."

"Well, that's it," he said in defeat. "I'm screwed."

You actually audibly groaned when you heard what it was going to cost you to make the trip. Fees for changing tickets and last minute pricing for a hotel room in New York City were enough to make you call the cops and report a robbery. The extortion you were all too pleased to throw in Sebastian's face to make sure he understood the trouble you went through to get there. You bit the bullet and ended up in a marked up suite at the Waldorf on the 30th.

Your first night in town, Sebastian met you for dinner. Waiting at the hostess station to be seated in the Bull and Bear Steakhouse downstairs in the hotel lobby, you stood with Sebastian's arm around your waist, holding you by his side. His hand stayed on the small of your back as you were shown to your table. Menus read and dinner ordered, you two talked about your Christmases with your families and a little bit about work. You were both looking forward to a break from everything in the new year as calendars cleared and life slowed down before the next rounds of filming and press events kicked in. 

"So, anyway," Sebstian said, taking a drink of his water and changing the subject. "About tomorrow night."

"Yes," you said, straightening up to the edge of your seat with eager eyes.

"I have three options for you," he teased, squinting a serious gaze at you.

"Dazzle me," you invited, putting your elbows on the table and folding your hands together under your chin to listen.

"First, we low key it and stay in," he began, holding up a finger to count each suggestion. "Dos, we party it up with some friends of mine downtown." You nodded behind each option. "And third, we go wild and get into the shit at Times Sauare."

"Hmm," you contemplated behind a thoughtful smirk. "Those are some good choices."

"You must choose, but choose wisely," he said, taking a sip of his gin and tonic.

"I don't know," you laughed. "I could get behind any of those. What do you want to do?"

"I'll go anywhere," he shrugged. 

You thought for a long moment, biting your lower lip in concentration. "Okay," you decided. "Times Square."

"Really?" he smiled.

For a moment you thought you'd made the wrong choice. "Do you not wa-"

"No," he interrupted quickly, creasing his brow in disagreement. "No. Go big or go home, right?"

"Have you ever been?" you asked, poking your fork around at the last bites of dessert.

"I have," he nodded. "Not for a few years though."

"I just thought, I came all the way out here for the night, I might as well get the full tilt experience," you told him.

"Then that's what you'll get," he promised, with a firm nod and hoist of his glass.

Promptly at 6 o'clock, there was a knock at your door. You checked the peephole with a smile at seeing Sebastian out in the hall in a black 3-piece suit over a white shirt, casually opened at the collar with a gray and black patterned scarf hanging from his neck and a coat over his arm. You opened the door to invite him in. Shutting the door behind him, you begged for one more minute to finish getting ready. Your hair, makeup, and accessories were finished. All you had to do was change out of your hotel robe and into your dress. You told him to make himself at home and you sprinted around into the bedroom to change. When you reappeared a couple minutes later, it was to the long, low whistle of approval from Sebastian.

"Is that the dress from Beijing?" he asked as you did a little turn for him.

You nodded and blushed at his eyes running up and down you as he coughed quietly behind his hand wiping down the sides of his mouth. "Look okay?" you asked.

"My god," he breathed out with a nod and wide eyes. "You're beautiful."

Sebastian crossed the living room to plant a kiss on your cheek before he stepped back to admire you again. You smiled at the sweet affection and the scent you caught of his cologne. You needed a moment to calm the butterflies in your stomach and excused yourself to get your coat. He called after you, jokingly asking if you kept that dress in your purse for emergencies and you laughed when you explained you had your assistant overnight it before you left Indiana.

"God bless the postal service," he declared and you were on your way downstairs to the lobby and the waiting car to take you to dinner.

Traffic was a nightmare, but you managed to make your way to dinner at an upscale Italian restaraunt by 7:00. You weren't sure how he managed dinner reservations on New Year's Eve at the last minute and, when you asked, his answer was a proud grin and a wink. 

You wined and dined, laughing at jokes and sharing your best New Year's Eve adventures from the past. After your meal, you bundled up under your ruffle collar wool coat as you headed into the crowd. With Sebastian leading you by the hand, you edged your way though the pedestrian partiers a few blocks to get to your next stop, a rooftop party at a hotel lounge overlooking Times Square. You made the rounds with a glass of champagne in one hand and Sebastian's hand in the other as you caught up with some of his friends who were partying at the hotel for the big event. He introduced you to his friends and kept an arm around your waist as you stood sampling hors devours and around your shoulder when you joined them at their booth. The room was a little crowded for dancing, but the two of you and a few of his friends managed to make due in the space you could find when the dj was irresistible.

A couple quick hours flew by and, before you knew it, you were slipping back into your coat down in the street. You were treated to a pair of new year glasses and a marabou trimmed tiara while Sebastian opted for the more sophisticated foam top hat and glasses. You worked your way to the gates at the edge of the crowd were Sebastian flashed some laminated passes from his pocket at a guy with a headset on. The next you knew, you were escorted past the barricades and between the crowd to one of the stage areas in front of the glistening crystal ball above. You mixed into the crowd, listening and swaying to the performers, leaned back against Sebastian with his arms belted around your waist. You both sang along when you liked the songs and took a couple snuggled up selfies to remember the night. 

When the countdown began at one minute till, you were excitedly bouncing on your toes while Sebastian laughed with his eyes crinkled in absolute amusement of you. At 20 seconds to go, your phone was out to video the drop. With 10 seconds left, Sebastian pulled you close, holding you to his hip as you turned your phone around on yourselves counting out with the rest of the city. 5 seconds left and you panned your phone over the crowd. When there was no time left, your gaze found Sebastian's and you yelled your hello to the new year with broad smiles. 

Your filming was forgotten as Sebastian pulled you to him tightly, crashing his smiling lips into yours and dipping you back as much as the crowd would allow. With your arms hooked around his neck, you savored every second of your wonderfully, and purposefully, dramatic kiss. You found your feet again as the rest of the revelers around you pulled apart and broke into Old Lang Syne as the confetti fell. You joined in the song, swaying in Sebastian's arms with the crowd.

While you sang, you snapped a few pics with your phone in one hand and your arm hugged round his waist beneath the jacket of his suit, drinking in the energy of the scene around you. Sebastian sang along, skipping some words here and there to ask if you were having fun and to press a kiss to your temple. When New York, New York filled the air, you both lit up. Eyes wide and smiles beaming, the two of you belted out the song with the kind of passion that would make Ol' Blue Eyes himself tip a fedora your way. You ended the song with joyful laughter and a long squeeze from Sebastian. 

The partiers jostled around, beginning to find their way home. You started to shuffle along with everyone else, holding hands as you enthusiastically thanked Sebastian for inviting you out for the holiday. He asked if you wanted to go back to the party at the hotel and didn't seem at all disappointed when you said no. It wasn't that you were tired. Your feet were killing you. 

"I'm sorry," you said, still competing a bit with the noise of the crowd as you pocketed your glasses. "Christian Louboutin doesn't do sensible shoes."  

He smiled and tipped his face to your ear. "I like the shoes."

You felt your cheeks warm at the compliment and he held your hand a little tighter as you navigated the crowd back to your rented car. Inching along in the traffic back to your hotel, you sipped champagne in the backseat, going on about how much fun the night had been. 

"I have to applaud you, sir," you declared with a delighted smile. "You delivered 'full tilt'."

He tapped his glass to yours. "What my baby wants, my baby gets," he winked over a sip of champagne. 

Your nose wrinkled as you crushed your eyes closed for a moment over an improbably wide grin and small titter. You shook your head to fight off the soft heat in your cheeks again and he chuckled. You loved the sound of it- my baby. 

"Please, don't ever stop doing that," he said earnestly. 

"Doing what?" you asked, a little caught of guard. 

"Blushing like that," he pointed out with a warm smile. "That smile and the little lines you get at the sides of your eyes. I love that."

The heat in your face was flaming now and you ducked your head modestly. "Don't tell a girl she's got wrinkles at her eyes," you playfully scolded. "You might as well call her old and get it over with."

He laughed out loud with a tip of his head back into the headrest. "They're not wrinkles. You're too young for that," he reminded you, lacing his fingers into yours. "They're smile lines and they're beautiful. They let people know you're happy." He pulled your hand up from your lap and turned it in his to kiss the back of your hand. "You're happy, right? Worth the trip?"

You smiled, giving his hand a small squeeze as your hands rested on your leg again. "Very happy," you nodded. "Definitely worth the trip."


	8. Burberry and Couture

At the curb in front of the Waldorf Astoria, Sebastian let the driver go for the night. With a firm handshake, a generous tip and wishes for a happy New Year from you both, Sebastian slipped his New Year's glasses in the driver's breast pocket on his jacket and shut the car door behind you. He made it clear, he had no nefarious intentions. He just didn't want to hold the guy up any longer on a holiday. Besides, he liked the city at night and was happy to grab the subway or cab. But for now, he was going to walk you to your door.

Riding the elevator up to your floor, he quietly hummed. It only took a couple bars to catch on that it was What Are You Doing New Year's Eve and you smiled, bumping your shoulder into his arm with a small giggle as he put an arm around your waist to keep you close. He spun his commemorative hat around on the end of his finger while you unlocked the door and his absentminded smile reminded you of his stint as the Mad Hatter.

You smiled warmly and inclined your head inside. "Cup of coffee to warm you up for the trip home?" you offered.

"Not keeping you up, am I?" he checked, catching his hat and holding the brim with both hands in front of him.

"No," you shook your head. "Truth be told, I was going to order some greasy room service and stay up for New Year's on the coast." You hesitated for just a second before you offered, "You hungry?"

"A little bit," he nodded.

You pushed the door open wide and invited him in. He accepted with a polite smile and you shut the door behind him. You took his coat, folding it neatly over the back of one of the chairs at the dining table. You disappeared to the bedroom to hang up your coat, put aside your tiara for the night, and slip out of your heels. When you came back to the living room, Sebastian was standing at the table, one hand in his pocket and the other holding the kitchen menu. He looked up and flashed you a quick smile, asking if you knew what you wanted to order and holding out the menu for you to peruse. A quick phone call downstairs for burgers and fries, you added hot chocolate for dessert. You settled onto the couch with the TV on the New Year's Eve concerts for background noise while you both caught up with all your missed "Happy New Year!" messages on your phones.

The wait for food wasn't as long as you expected, and you appreciated that maybe your name got you a little faster service. With his jacket added to the pile with his coat, you ate your early morning dinner at the coffee table in the living room, with Sebastian's sleeves rolled up and vest of his suit undone. Bellies full of delicious food, you nestled under Sebastian's arm with a contented sigh as the music played on and you reviewed the photos on your phone together. You gave another small sigh, which you didn't think he heard, when you realized you wouldn't be sharing any of the photos of the night.

"What's wrong, baby girl?" he poutingly asked, bringing a grin to your face when you turned up to see him smiling down at you under his arm.

"Nothing," you promised. "I was just thinking how it sucks to not put up any pictures of tonight. That's all."

"Why don't you?" he shrugged, taking your phone to watch the video you had of the countdown while you spoke.

"People, ya know?" you said, making a sour face. "People watching, getting into your business, asking questions."

"Not ready for that," he nodded, not quite a statement or a question either.

You took back your phone when he finished the video and held it out to you. "Is that just me?" you worried.

"No," he shook his head, smoothing his thumb slowly up and down your arm. "I get it. Privacy is nice. Once you lose it, it's gone. That's why I like it here. It's just so easy to get lost in the crowd. The anonymity, ya know?"

You nodded. You liked it too, the first time he showed you around the city. But still, even in New York, the Internet doesn't go unnoticed. If you posted your favorite pic of you two in Times Square, it would cause quite a stir. Management would have to be told, so they could wrangle the press. As it was, the only ones who knew there might be something starting was your family, obviously, and your PA who helped with travel arrangements. You weren't sure who, if anyone, Sebastian had told. Minus the vague hinting about dating someone he had done on GMA, he may not have told anyone. When you were introduced to his friends tonight, it had been by name, without any labels attached. Sure, you danced together and stuck close to each other, but there wasn't too much of a case to be made for romance in front of them.

"Anonymity is good," you agreed, a little lost in your thoughts, as you swiped through your phone.

"Hey," he said, with a little squeeze to get your attention. "You can post something if you want."

"No, it's fine," you said. "Who needs all that hassle, right?"

He frowned at you for a minute and took out his phone. Sebastian thumbed through the screen for a minute before he brought his hands together over you so he could type with both thumbs. The glare on the screen didn't let you quite see what he was doing, but when he was done, he smiled proudly with a confident, "there". You asked what he did and he handed you his phone. Instagram was opened and you saw he had uploaded a group photo with his friends from the hotel party. Pressed into the photo with several other people, you were inconspicuously posed under Sebastian's arm and the arm of one of his friends beside you. You were in the mix of the people he tagged with the comment "Happy. New. Year. NY!" and the photo was already getting "likes" from his fans.

"See?" he pointed out, taking back the phone. "Now people know you finally got to New York for a New Year's Eve party. I just happened to be there as well."

You smiled, with a hint of a blush. "What a fun coincidence, huh?" you joked and he squeezed you in tight to his side to kiss the side of your head, with a chuckle. "Well played, sir. Well played."

"So what if people find out?" he shrugged, slipping his arm from you and standing up. "It's not like there's anything to be ashamed of."

You watched as Sebastian went over to the table and came back with the carafe of hot chocolate and dish of marshmallows. You sat up and gave him your cup to top off as you agreed, "True. There's not. It's just, well, I've never been in a relationship with another actor before, and-" You sighed and tipped up your brow trying to figure how to finish as you spooned a pile of mini marshmallows into you cup and sprinkled some chocolate shavings on top for good measure.

"It's just like dating other people," he noted, taking a seat again. "Except we drink hot chocolate in Burberry and couture."

You sputtered into your drink and put a hand under your chin to catch any wayward drips of hot chocolate. "Nice," you laughed, as you checked yourself over for any spills, and he laughed at you.

"I'm sorry," he said, putting up an apologetic hand and worried brow, as he still chuckled. "Did you get any on you?"

"No, we're good," you said, putting the beverage on the coffee table. "But I'm gonna go change. This is a little risky for hot chocolate with you around."

He apologized again as you rounded the corner, although it did nothing to stop his quiet laughing. You shrugged it off when you realized you hadn't really packed to entertain late night guests. Instead, you slipped into your loose, black sweatpants and the tank top you slept in underneath a grey, zip up hoodie. Your hair twisted up into a knot on the crown of your head, you climbed back onto the couch, one leg beneath you and a knee pulled to your chest. Sebastian gave you a once over from the side of his eye and scoffed.

"That's not fair," he huffed, quietly.

"What?" you threw back, indignantly. "Take your shoes off and stay awhile. Nobody'd blame you." He smiled and you reciprocated. "If you want, you can go rummage through the closet for something in your size."

"I'm alright," he smirked. "But thanks."

There was a pause between you as you sipped your drink again and checked your phone at a chime for a new message. It was almost the New Year in LA and you were getting some preemptive well wishes ahead of "midnight". You were lost in a group message, reading along with a couple friends, when you settled back into the end of the couch with your knees up, absentmindedly curling and stretching the toes of your tired feet and rubbing at a tender spot on one heel with your thumb. You were slightly startled when Sebastian reached over and put a soft hand behind your calf, stretching your leg into his lap as he began massaging your foot.

"Better?" he asked.

You nodded, admittedly lost for words at Sebastian Stan rubbing your achy feet. He caught a glance of your small, lip-bitten grin and explained it was the only decent thing to do as he had made you go out in "those shoes". You smiled with another soft titter in shyness. There hadn't been a single thing he did that didn't make you swoon in at least some small way. You wouldn't have traded anything for your Times Square adventure tonight, but low-key, staying in for "second New Year's" was absolutely wonderful in its own way.

The West coast New Year counted down, and, at the stroke of your extra midnight, you found yourself leaned in to meet his lean over the couch for another kiss goodbye to 2015. You both smiled around your bonus New Year wishes to each other. Your eyes locked for a moment, Old Lang Syne drifting out of the TV as fireworks flashed bright lights from the screen over the room. Sebastian's hand found the back of your neck and you found yourself following his lead as he pulled you to him.

Tipping over on your knees, you perched on your heels beside him on the couch. His other hand rested on your thigh while your arms slipped around his neck. Your lips parted, your tongues softly playing with each other as you felt his fingertips massage into your leg. Behind you on the couch, your phone exploded into a symphony of chimes for your next round of New Year's greetings and you both laughed, your smiling lips still touching and your noses nuzzling.

His thumb brushed your cheek and he tipped his forehead to yours when your phone rang. "You wanna get that?" he smiled, with the hint of a breathy laugh.

"It's my parents," you informed him, a little breathless yourself. "They always stay up and call for my LA new year if I'm not in Indy with them."

He pulled back his hands, freeing you to answer with a smile and reaching around you to find your phone for you. "Definitely answer," he said, firmly with a grin. "Your dad doesn't need more reasons to hate me."

You were already answering the phone as he finished, hoping to catch the call before your voicemail did. You fell back on the couch again, tucking some stray hairs behind your ear, a little embarrassed by the call as you beamed a bright smile and New Year cheer for your mom on the phone. Sebastian smiled warmly, shaking his head as he held in a laugh while you explained that you, "no, by myself", were just watching the festivities in LA before you went to bed. Sebastian stood up from the couch and took his mug of hot chocolate to the table, as you summed up your New York new year over the phone to your mom. No, you didn't get mugged. Yes, you took pictures. Of course, you'll send them over for her to see in the morning. Yeah, you love her, too.

Putting the phone aside on the table with a fond smile, your grin slipped when you saw Sebastian was shrugging his coat back on. "You're leaving?" you asked the obvious, as you got to your feet.

"Yeah," he admitted, flipping his scarf over head to rest behind his neck. "Your parents calling is the universal sign for 'it's time to call it a night'." He grinned, twirling his foam hat in his hand, tumbling it brim over top to set on his head.

You were a little off balance, worried you had done something wrong, but not quite sure what. "Is something-"

"No," he interrupted, quick and reassuring, walking over and putting his hands on your arms. "It was a joke. I'm kidding." He kissed your forehead. "But it's late and I promised I'd be a gentleman."

"Wow," you marveled. "That's still a thing?"

Sebastian laughed and playfully tugged you in with one arm for a hug. "I don't know what kind of riff raff you have in LA, but it's still a thing on the East coast," he told you, as you laughed, nuzzling your cheek in his shoulder and sliding your arms underneath his coat. "Besides, I'm sure you're tired. Two New Year's Eves is a lot of partying."

"I'm LA, baby," you quipped. "Two New Years is just the warm up."

He laughed, kissing the top of your head. "Brunch?"

"Brunch," you agreed with a nod.

Turning your head back to see him, Sebastian planted a firm, lingering kiss on your lips. He pulled back to smile at you before punctuating the moment with a second quick kiss and telling you goodnight. You smiled your goodbye, watching him let himself out and following a few steps behind to lock the door after him. You flopped onto the couch with a heavy sigh and the side of your slacked mouth turned up in an awestruck grin. Your smile cracked wide and you giggled to yourself, recounting the events of the evening and his charming departure. Your heart racing and butterflies fluttering, you bit your lip and shook your head. You took up your phone and started replying to your list of waiting texts, too excited to go to sleep, even if you wanted to.


	9. To Day Drinking, Wants & Whims

First day of the New Year and you were seated in the lobby of the Waldorf Astoria, waiting on Sebastian to join you for brunch. Tucked under a newsboy cap and knit scarf, he held your hand and kissed your cheek as an apology for getting caught in traffic. What a gentleman to beg forgiveness at being only six minutes off schedule. Even if he had been thirty minutes late, his apology was so sweet you could pardon him for an hour.

The host showed you to a table in Peacock Alley along the edge of the dining room. Ordering eggs, bacon, and pancakes, you sipped mimosas with a toast to 2016 and day drinking. You talked about each other's favorite highlights about your adventures in Times Square, with a winking side note from Sebastian that the LA New Year's was pretty good, too. Feeling the wonderful fullness of your carb laden brunch, you two settled into your chairs and sipped your effervescent drinks while the conversation carried on.

"So, you're going to the Globes, right?" Sebastian asked.

"Hadn't really committed to it yet," you shrugged. "My team's kinda harping on me about it. I have to make a decision this weekend so I can panic shop through designers and stuff, if I do. I'm not sure."

"Why not?" he questioned, a scrutinizing crease in his brow.

"My schedule's getting heavy again," you explained. "I've got a reading and a screen test down at Pinewood the week before, a meeting with the guys from Working Title over at Universal at 9 the next day and, oh, my god! When did I become this whiny person?" You laughed at yourself and Sebastian joined in. "I have no right to bitch about this! This is exactly what I wanted, to have steady work. What is wrong with me?"

Sebastian continued to chuckle and he shook his head. "You're breaking out," he noted with a smile. "Hollywood's come knocking. There's only two ways to go. You're either chasing your tail or fighting for that next part. There's not much room in between."

"I know," you agreed with wide eyes, still a little bit in denial of your continuing rise in popularity and demand. "I mean, don't get me wrong, it's a good problem to have, but- Well, I didn't _really_ think it'd _really_ happen. And, to be completely honest, I didn't think it would be this sudden. I mean, what if this is it? Just a pop and then fizzle- nothing."

"Which is why you should go," he urged. "Take it for a ride. Be out there. Let them see you. But, believe me, you're not just a flash in the pan and you're gonna have to get used to it. It's not going away anytime soon. It's happening for you."

"Okay," you began to admit, "the costumes and the parts and the parties and premiers- all that is fun." You bit your lip, the big catch coming. "But part of me doesn't want anything to change. Because, when it does, everything changes. I still wanna be me, ya know? I want to be able to go places and do things that I want to do, when I want to do them, and not have everyone watching. I don't want to be big and lose myself."

Sebastian reached over the table and put his hand over yours. "You won't," he assured you. "That you can even say that means it won't change you. You're a great actress. You're earning everything you've got coming. I've said before that you'd be big and I really believe that...Fame's a fickle and tricky thing, but you deserve it." He leaned back into his seat, taking his hand back to pick up his champagne flute. "Besides," he said, with a tip of his glass ahead of a drink, "I'll be there for you, ready to let you know when your ego gets too big and you're being an insufferable bitch."

"Ohh. Do you promise?" you cooed with dripping sarcasm. "Thanks, Seb. You're the best."

"Just lemme know when it's time to take you down a peg or two," he winked. "I'll take care of it."

"My hero," you laughed.

"I'm happy to help," he said, humbly. "But, seriously though, come with me to the Globes."

"Go _with_ you...to the Globes," you parroted, a small disbelieving fold in your brow.

"Yeah," he shrugged, a quick scrunch of his face as if it were nothing.

"You mean _with_ you or just be in attendance at the same event with you by wonderful coincidence?" you clarified.

"Like _with_ me," Sebastian emphasized.

You sat quietly in thought for a moment, your mind running a thousand miles a minute, thinking of all the angles. The fun and the glamour of an award show red carpet. The exposure for your career. Walking the red carpet with Seabstian. The press and paparazzi. The questions, the looks, the whispers and rumors starting. Suddenly, the giddiness of the night before paled in comparison to the assured anxiety of public scrutiny. 

"You still with me?" Sebastian asked, a lopsided smile on his face as you came out of your thoughts. "Is it really _that_ unappealing of an idea? Cause if you're worried I'll look like a bum, I promise, I clean up pretty good when I have to."

You smiled shyly, a bit embarrassed you'd been so distracted and that he may have mistaken you contemplation for a rejection. "No, it's not that," you promised him. "It's just-"

You didn't know how to put it to words without it sounding awful, your worries about the loss of privacy by going public with your new relationship being the first thing that came to mind. Hell, your insecurities about the relationship all together. It was so new. There were no discussions about exclusivity, no labels. And it didn't help your faultering nerve to see Sebastian waiting patiently on the other side of the table, with the hint of a smile at the side of his mouth, encouraging you to go on. You sighed and found a bit of courage after another drink. 

"Going _with_ you to the Globes," you began, "is kind of a big deal. I know you didn't really care last night about posting a photo together, and, the girly girl in me wanted to also, but- Going to the Golden Globes with you, that's where the privacy ends. It's astronomical compared to sharing a group photo on Instagram. It'll be out there, undeniably. Is that really the way you want to go?"

He shrugged, his smile pulling down into a small frown. "It's bound to come up sooner or later," he conceded. "Why not take control and do it on our terms?"

It was your turn to shrug, still hesitant to express your doubts. Was it too early to define the relationship? You didn't even know if he was looking for something long term or if you two were just a fling, enjoying each others company. You turned it over in your head, leaving another short pause between you. 

Sebastian leaned forward, his arms resting on the tops of his legs, the fingertips of his right hand finding your knee beneath the table, and his eyes coming to level with yours. "Is there something wrong?" he asked, his brow creasing and tone a bit concerned. "I thought it would be fun, but you're acting like...Well, I don't know, actually, but it's a little disappointing."

"I'm sorry," you said, your face wincing in regret for the way you were failing at explaining yourself. "I don't mean to-" You sighed, taking a breath to try again. "I'm just gonna say it," you decided. "I just don't want to make a mistake. This is so new to me, dating another actor. And the press can be like rabid dogs some times. I know, it makes me sound like an awful person, but I don't want to be out there and end up some laughing stock, flavor of the month. I'm sure that sounds selfish or ridiculous or whatever, but I'm not that kind of person."

Sebastian set his arms on the table to lean in a little closer, making the conversation more private. "Is that what you think this is?" the question sounding like the insult you had hoped to avoid had found its mark regardless. "That I beg you to come out here and spend time with me hoping it sells some pics and gets my name in the paper? Or that I just run through women like there's no tomorrow?"

The insinuations stung and you instantly regretted having said anything at all. Your head fell back in exasperation and you wished you had just told him you would think about it and get back to him later. You weren't exactly proud of yourself. You were usually so much more tactful. Maybe it was the late night before and you were more tired than you knew or the mimosas, but you certainly had a made a mess of an otherwise delightful brunch.

"No," you groaned, quietly, with a deep sigh and long blink. "I didn't mean it to come out like that."

"Well, then, tell me what you did mean," he invited, his tone still not quite hospitable.

You needed another long inhale to pull your thoughts together and find a way to keep your foot out of your mouth. "This is fun," you explained. "And, I like you, I really do."

"Me too," he interjected.

"But," you began and he straightened up a little, as if he were bracing for a punch, "where is this going? I mean, all the phone calls and messages in the world don't make up for the miles in between and flying back and forth for a couple days here or there just-" You stopped, needing another breath as you noticed his jaw set forward a bit and his lips tighten while he nodded along. "That's a lot of space and time in between for...distractions, and I'm not used to not having someone close by that I can't just meet for dinner or see a movie with or something on a whim. It maybe wouldn't be a surprise that you'd get distracted. And, given the circumstances, I couldn't blame you for- Fuck. I don't know." You threw up your hand, frustrated, as you shook your head at yourself. "Look, I don't even know why I said anything. And now I feel like an ass and I'd take it back if I could, but it was gonna come up sooner or later, I guess."

"[y/n], you've known me for, what? A little over a year now," he pointed out, after a minute of silent contemplation. "And short of filming and press, this is the most time we've ever spent together, right?" You nodded, finishing your mimosa and tipping the empty glass to the approaching waiter to ask for another. "Well, that's what I want. I want to do stuff on a whim with you. So, it's a little rough right now, but we're just getting started. We can figure out something. Even if we lived closer together, there still'd be times you go off to shoot in one place for a couple months and I'd go to another. We'd be doing the same thing then that we are now."

"In a way, yes," you conceded, your eyes drifting frustratedly around the room. "But, that's not the case. The reality is going home with a literal country between us. Call me clingy or needy or whatever, but..."

You shrugged, not even wanting to finish the sentence. Sebastian was quiet for a moment and you folded the napkin in your lap for a distraction, unable to look at him. What a way to start off the new year. You couldn't help yourself, the mimosas or knowing you were back on a plane tomorrow, something made you confess every manifesting insecurity.

"I'll be in LA for most of the week after the Globes," he said, finally. "I know you're gonna start shooting soon, so I'll come see you out there when you have a couple days off. It's not much, I know, but we'll do better. We just need a little time to get some traction."

There was an earnestness in his expression and a promise in his voice that made you feel a little more optimistic. He paused as the waiter came back with your drink and cleared some of the dishes for you. Sebastian reached out to hold your hand again and gave it a reassuring squeeze when he went on.

"I really want you to go with me," Sebastian assured you. "Besides, I'm not there that long. If you don't come, that's a whole day lost...I don't care about the press. Fuck 'em. Let them write about it. I don't care. I just wanna spend time with you. _Just_ you. I'm not interested in anyone else...All you gotta do is tell me that's what you wanna do, too."

You never felt so small and, at the same time, so significant. With a meek and pouty frown, you nodded. "That sounds nice."

"Don't be like that," he frowned. "Gimme a smile, a laugh, something. This is supposed to be fun."

You put up your most convincing smile, still feeling sheepish for the turn the conversation had taken. "I'm sorry," you said.

"No," he said, his thumb running across the back of your hand. "I get it. Just don't write us off before we get started, okay?"

He shot you that trademark smile and the flutter of butterflies in your stomach insisted you were being ridiculous. You nodded, with a genuine smile this time. You reasoned with yourself that it was natural to have these kinds of questions and nerves about a long distance relationship. That Sebastian was so confident and willing to make it work restored your hope that something good could come out of this in the long run.

"You gonna go with me to the Globes?' he asked, one eyebrow cocked up, eager for your reply.

You took a breath and decided to go for broke, nodding your answer, as you realized nothing was going to come of anything if your didn't take a chance and try. You could be brave. After all, you had your very own superhero sitting across the table from you, telling you it would be alright. The nod won you a tight squeeze of your hand and a broad smile from Sebastian.

"Good," he nodded. "I promise, it'll be fun." You nodded your agreement again as he went on, determined to change the mood at your table. "So, let's finish our day drinkin', grab your coat, and go see Star Wars."


	10. Messrs Valentino, Dolce, Gabbana, Winston, & Stan present...

January- herald of the new year and award season. Sitting in a tall director's chair in the living room of a suite at the Montage Beverly Hills Hotel, your makeup artist was putting the last sweep of her brush to your perfect smokey eyes. Your personal assistant, Ashley, answered the knock at the door, escorting in the representative from Harry Winston to deliver your jewelry for the night. Makeup perfected, your hairstylist stepped in with a last minute pin for your updo and a bit of spray at some well placed wisps beside your ears. With a quick check of the time from Ashley, you went to slip off your fluffy hotel robe and stepped into your gown for the evening, an elegant strapless design, with a subtle mermaid cut train at your heels and a plunging back. The midnight black dress popped with delicate, white Swarovski crystals at the knee, sparsely at first but then gathering in number and pooling the shimmering facets until they crowded the hem of the gown at your feet, the effect of a brilliant night sky magically sparkling as you moved.

Mr. Winston provided the finishing touch to it all, a pair of half carat wire studs, a 2.5 carat Belle Micropavé engagement ring on your right hand, and several varying length ropes of diamonds that looped and cascaded down your demure cleavage. Inspecting yourself in the bedroom mirror, even you gave an impressed whistle at seeing the 120 or so carats you were dripping in. You'd never seen so many radiant diamonds in such polished platinum settings in your life, as if you weren't already nervous enough.

Ashely handed you your cellphone to read a message from Sebastian saying he would be there in ten minutes. That's when you felt your chest, neck, and cheeks flush warm at once. There was no turning back. This was happening. You handed your phone off to Ashley, freeing both hands to fan at your face while you blew a deep breath through puffed out cheeks. Ashley handed you your bottled water for a sip from your straw.

"Holy shit," you exhaled, handing back the water. "What am I doing?"

"Everything's going to be fine," she promised, typing back an 'okay' to Sebastian for you. "You look hot, you're wearing Dolce and Harry Winston, and everyone loves you. You've done red carpet before. You can do this."

"I can do this," you assured yourself, a soft mantra in the mirror a few times as you twisted to see the back of your gown.

"You want anything else to eat before you go?" Ashley checked, sorting the plates from your late lunches back onto the room service tray in the next room. "Something else to drink?"

"No," you called back, still eyeing your dress for any flaws. "No, I'm good."

Your little team of stylists packed up their gear and left you with their best wishes and compliments. You sat down on the edge of the couch, your hands folded together and hanging loosely over your knees, palms together as you nervously bit your lip and stared at the clock on the TV counting down the time until the award show began. You scanned the faces walking the carpet behind the presenters for E!, wondering who you might know there tonight. Ashley snapped a photo of you silhouetted by the early evening light of the white curtained balcony door behind you and put it in a black and white filter. The result was stunning, your inattentive and unassuming gaze elsewhere from the camera while your black gown and sparkles popped against the white couch and pale, gauzy curtains. You kissed her cheek when she bent down to show you, your confidence boosted by your BFF.

Your phone chimed and Ashley checked the preview, telling you Sebastian was coming upstairs to meet you. You wrung your hands in a new fit of nervousness. Suddenly worried you were forgetting something, you had Ashley inventory your black satin clutch and run down the evenings protocols while you fussed over your dress and jewelry in the bedroom mirror. You practically jumped out of your skin when there was a knock on the door. Ashley waved a calming hand down at you as she went to answer the knock. From the next room you heard Ashely introduce herself to Sebastian and tell him you'd be right out.

She came back to the bedroom and snickered at you bouncing on your toes in an exaggerated fuss. You waved your hands up and down with a wincing smile, mouthing 'oh, my God' as you tried to expel some nervous energy. Ashley motioned for you to be still as she gave you a fast, but meticulous, once over. With her approving nod and an encouraging pat on your ass, you finally smiled and went out to the living room.

Sebastian was standing in front of the TV, hands in his pockets and eyes turned down to the screen over lips pursed in boredom. You paused in the doorway and admired him for a moment in his navy tuxedo. When you stepped out and he looked over, his face lit up. Eyes going wide, brow raising, and smile agape, he stood there for a speechless moment. His mouth closed, eyes running up and down as you spun once to show off the train of the dress. When he finally spoke, it came on the tail end of an awestruck breath.

"You look...absolutely stunning," he marveled, his hand dragging down the sides of his 5 o'clock shadowed chin, thoroughly enchanted.

You felt a wave of relief at his approval. Behind you, Ashley came into the room to hand you your purse. She kissed the air beside your cheek, reassured you that you were beautiful, and told you to call her if you needed anything. Ashley gave Sebastian a smile and a handshake on the way out the door and you were alone. The flutter in your stomach swelled again and, for a distraction, you stepped around him to turn off the television. You noticed him turn on his heel to watch you go by and when you looked back, Sebastian's eyes rose up you to meet yours, an innocent smile playing over his lips.

"I'm sorry," he said, gesturing an apologetic hand out toward you. "I just can't stop staring."

Your cheeks burned and you ducked your head, taking in the lines of your dress and smoothing your hands down your hips. "It's not too much, is it?" you worried. 

"No. It's perfect." Sebastian said as he crossed the room, one hand finding your waist and his smile stopping just shy of your cheek. He leaned back, apologetically saying, "I don't wanna ruin your makeup."

You couldn't help a soft giggle at his thoughtfulness. "You look very handsome," you noted, trailing your fingertips behind the lapel on his left shoulder.

He glanced down at himself and said, "Valentino." He took your hand from his jacket and kissed your knuckles, his eyes bulging when he caught sight of the ring on your finger. "Holy shi-" His head tilted in a nod. "Wow."

"I know, right?" you agreed, with your own disbelief at the gems you were wearing. "Harry Winston."

"You're just begging to be robbed," he joked, offering you his arm to take.

You hooked your hand into his elbow and laughed. "So much for the Winter Soldier," you teased.

He opened the hotel room door, bowing slightly and sweeping his hand across the threshold to send you ahead of him. "Hey," he bit back, his face twisting in a complaining grimace as he pulled the door shut behind him and took up your arm again. "In Valentino, you get Bucky Barnes."

"Oh, well, excuse me," you corrected, with all the mocking sincerity it deserved. "So much for Bucky Barnes, then."

"Keep sassing me, woman," he warned, pressing the button for the elevator, "and I'll let them take the diamonds _and_ you."

"You'd be miserable without me," you arrogantly assured him as the elevator opened.

He gave the idea a thoughtful frown and shrug. "Probably," he conceded, hitting the button for the lobby and taking hold of your hand. 

You shook your head, both of you wearing grins as you entered the elevator in amused silence. With a shy glance over, you noticed one side of his bow tie dipping lower than the other. You turned to see him, with a hand on his shoulder to angle him your way. Sebastian raised his chin, smiling at the ceiling, as you reached up for his tie. With a descerning eye, you straightened the wings of the knot level again, patting your hand over his heart with a smiling, "There. All better."

Sebastian leaned in, placing a soft kiss behind your ear. "No makeup there," he pointed out as he straightened back up with a proud smile at his own cleverness.

The doors opened and you swallowed down a deep breath as you crossed the lobby hand in hand with Sebastian. The most elegantly dressed couple in sight, every pair of eyes turned to watch as you headed to the waiting limousine. The doorman guided you outside, with a smile and nod, while your driver for the night greeted you with a pleasant 'good evening, miss' and held open the car door for you. Sebastian offered a hand, bunching up the material of your short train for you as you slid into the backseat. You and your gown safely inside, Sebastian climbed in beside you.

It wasn't a long drive to the Beverly Hilton, but the cue for the arriving limos was slow. While you waited, taking in the behind the scenes work outside your window, Sebastian posted a picture of himself in his tuxedo that he'd taken earlier, at his own hotel, to Instagram. He showed you the photo and had you proof his comment. You showed off the picture Ashley captured of you and he insisted, that if you didn't share the photo, you had to at least send it for him to keep. You hadn't decided on whether you would share the photograph or if it was one to keep for yourself and family, but you sent it to him regardless.

As the car crept closer to the front of the line, your palms began to sweat. You fanned at your face for a moment, staring out the window and taking a quick count of the number of cameramen and photographers you could see. Beside you, Sebastian chuckled quietly.

"Hey," he said gently, asking for your attention as he took your hand in his. "Don't worry about it. Remember, we're not even gonna do any press. We're just going to walk the photographers' line and go inside. Okay?"

Inhaling as much of a breath as you could, you nodded as the driver stopped at the end of the red carpet and a burly man with a tuxedo and an earpiece opened the door for you. As soon as Sebastian exited the car, there was a fresh uproar of squealing fangirls and you felt like you were back in Beijing for a moment. He stood for a moment and gave a wave befitting of his stylish suit before he turned back around and held his hand out for you. You scooted over in the seat and hesitated for a second, repeating your mantra from Ashely under your breath. "You can do this."

Sebastian smiled warmly at you and curled his index finger to draw you out. The tiny, yet endearing, gesture made you smile and gave you the strength to put your hand in his. You adjusted the bottom of your dress aside and stood up with a guiding pull from Sebastian. The crowd erupted again to welcome you as you let go of Sebastian's hand to turn and adjust your dress behind you. Train flowing and clutch in hand, you fixed on your celebrity smile and gave a graceful overhead wave. For a minute, it may have passed as two co-stars sharing a limo to the event their movie was contending in.

Ahead of you, the flashes popped and you heard the sound of dozens of shutters simultaneously clicking as the crowd settled to their regular din. Sebastian waited just a step in front of you, an adoring and patient smile on his face and hands in his pockets. As you stepped away from the limo and on to the red carpet, he held his hand back for you to take. You reached forward and he beamed, twisting his fingers with yours and squeezing to hold your palm to his. 

The simple affection sent the crowd of fans into a frenzy and the photographers into overdrive. Sebastian led you confidently along, following him just a fraction behind his shoulder. He kept your hand close to him as you both smiled and waved to your fans. The pace was slow, set by a middle aged woman with a clip board and a headset who guided you forward, giving everyone plenty of time to take pictures as you went. In the meantime, Sebastian spoke with you, close to your ear, saying little comments to make you laugh, pointing out people you both knew, and lavishing you with compliments on your look. The closer you got to the hotel entrance, the more the carpet backed up with celebrities lined up to give interviews. 

Your wrangler on the carpet covered the microphone on her headset and leaned in for Sebastian to hear her say something. He shook his head and waved his hand over the floor when he replied. You couldn't hear the conversation over the noise of the crowd screaming for the stars arriving behind you, but you imagined it was the show producers trying to get one or both of you into an interview. The woman nodded and spoke into her microphone again as she waved you along the back of the line to the next photography area.

Standing on top of a gigantic image of the famed globe on the carpet, your fellow celebrities took turns striking poses for the cameras. You and Sebastian went together, the frenetic strobing flashes telling you again how much of a scene your hand holding appearance with Sebastian was causing. He slipped his arm behind your back, smoothing his thumb down your spine at the small of your back the way he had the last time you were on display together in China, as you moved yours behind him. The little motion from his hand was somehow calming and he turned his head down for a moment toward your ear, asking if you were okay. You nodded and gave him an appreciative smile. He nodded back, his thumb making another run down your back before he took a few steps to the side with a broad sweep of his arm, inclining his head with a look to the photogs to point out that you were what they should be focusing on now.

You smiled and posed, giving the cameras a couple turns and smoldering looks like they always wanted. Beside you, Sebastian stood for his own photos, striking that swagger-filled pose you, and everyone else, loved with one hand in his pocket. There was a moment where you caught each other's eyes. He flashed you that heart melting smile and gave you a wink. Your smolder broke into a laughing smile, the one that he loved, where your eyes crinkled and he knew you were happy. That smile drew him back to you in an instant, his arm wrapping tightly around your waist. With a parting wave to the photographers, Sebastian lead you away into the hotel lobby, despite complaints from the gallery.

Staff directed you to follow the crowd into the Beverly Hills Ballroom where you could mingle with the another attendees for cocktails and hors d'oeuvres. You wondered around the room for a bit, shaking hands, kissing cheeks, and getting hugs while you sipped champagne. You posed beside Sebastian for a few casual photos for the event photographers inside, for ones with your co-star Matt and your director, and with some of your other Hollywood friends as you mingled. Away from the wall to wall cameras outside, you felt much more at ease.

There wasn't too much commenting or questioning about you being with Sebastian from the people inside. Those who said something about it at all were complimenting and wished you well. For the most part, you figured two actors dating was so blasé to other actors that they hardly even noticed. Matt insisted he knew you two would end up together after the movie wrapped. He had absolutley nothing to back up the claim, but he swore he knew it and his Boston thick assertion that he "fahckin' knew it" had you clutching your chest with laughter.

You moved on to the International Ballroom, directed to your table by a hostess with an iPad. You were pleased to see your co-star, Jessica, already at the table and her mouth fell open in a shocked gasp when she realized you and Sebastian were together. She insisted you take the seat beside her and fill her in on how it happened. While you chatted with Jessica, Sebastian made his way over a few tables and you saw him greet his Marvel co-star, Chris Evans, with a brotherly hug. You flashed a quick smile and gave small wave when you noticed the two men talking and Sebastian point you out to Chris with a fond smile.

Throughout the evening, you caught friendly waves and text messages from your celebrity acquaintances around the room. Sebastian's chair was kept close to yours, his arm resting across the back of your chair or bent up to your shoulder so he could absentmindedly swipe his thumb tenderly along the curve of your neck. Occasionally, his hand could be found holding yours in his lap or resting on your knee. You cheered enthusiastically when Matt won his award for Best Actor and crowded the stage with your fellow cast mates in attendance when your film won Best Motion Picture. Sebastian stood just behind your shoulder with his hand at your back while your director gave the acceptance speech and you all took a turn holding the statue. 

The ceremony over, you found your way back to your limo. You and Sebastian made the rounds of a couple of the after parties, stopping for brief photo ops and ignoring questions as you entered each event. You took selfies with your friends and toasted the night away with champagne. Somewhere in the world, there was a picture of you and Sebastian trying to stuff Matt's award in your petite clutch as Matt looked on in disgusted protest. You danced with Jessica and some other celebrity friends, and for a few songs with Sebastian, in between conversations over the music. And by the time you were leaving the last party in the blinding flashes of the paparazzi, you didn't care how many pictures they took. You had spent a glamorous night in Beverly Hills in front of the cameras with Sebastian Stan and survived. 

Pulling up to the entrance of your hotel, Sebastian told the driver to wait while he escorted you upstairs. Riding the elevator up to your floor, you pulled your hand out of Sebastian's and put it on his shoulder for balance as you slipped off your heels. You groaned quietly with relief as your tired feet flattened out on the floor and he laughed at you. Without the heels, your dress was a bit long and you gathered a handful of the front of your gown to avoid stepping on it. Fingers of one hand hooked under the straps of your shoes, you started out of the elevator when Sebastian grabbed your wrist to stop you. With a mischievous smile, he bent down and scooped you up over his shoulder.

A small, startled shriek of laughter escaped you and you instantly covered your mouth, knowing your behavior was rude for three in the morning in a hotel hallway, especially one in Beverly Hills. You stifled your laughter as he snapped his fingers at you to give him the room key. You fished the key out of your purse and handed it to him around the back of his head, with a playful smack on his ass with your purse for snapping at you. 

Sebastian opened the door, swinging you around as he shut the door behind him and found the light switch on the wall. He carried you into the middle of the living room and rolled you off his shoulder to stand you in the middle of the room. In the privacy of your suite, you were finally able to laugh and scold him the way you wanted to in the hall, calling him a punk and smacking lightly at his arm. He called you a jerk and pulled you in for a hug, swaying for a long moment together until both of you finished laughing. Holding you close, Sebastian pressed a firm kiss to the side of your head.

"See?" he lead in. "That wasn't so bad, was it?"

"No," you agreed. "That was pretty wonderful, actually. I had so much fun...The catch will be what they print in the morning."

"Fuck 'em," he declared, nestling his face into your neck for a soft kiss and a light scratch from his stubbled chin. "Nobody gives a shit what they write." He inched up and gave you another kiss. "If they write anything except how fuckin' amazing you look in that dress tonight, they missed the best part."

You tried to squirm your neck away from him when his sucking kiss below your ear gave you a tickle. He pulled you back, his lips smiling on your skin as you let out a boisterous laugh when he did it again. You begged him to stop and he straightened up to see you again. You shared a long, dreamy look in each other's eyes and he cinched his arms around you even tighter.

"I have to go," he reminded you, gently. "Limo's waiting."

"I know," you nodded, biting at your lip and bringing up a hand to run along his lapel.

"Breakfast tomorrow?" he suggested. "Brunch, lunch, dinner?" You giggled and swatted softly at his chest. "Afternoon tea? I'll take any or all of them."

"We'll start with lunch," you smiled, stretching up on your toes a bit to reach your lips to his. "I have a meeting in the morning, remember?"

Your lips pressed sweetly together again, Sebastian hummed thoughtfully against your mouth before pulling away to wrinkle his brow and ask, "What about a midnight snack?"

You smiled, giving him a soft push toward the door. "Out," you told him, playfully.

He moved backward at your direction, fingertips still holding onto your hips to walk you with him and face locked in contemplation as you went. "Just a nightcap, maybe?"

It was your turn to remind him, "Limo's waiting."

A few more steps and he backed into the edge of the suite's door. "How 'bout a mint off the pillow?"

"Goodnight, Mr. Stan," you shook your head with a smile, reaching around to find the door handle and pushing him into the hall.

He stood there a moment, an adoring smile on his face. "Goodnight, Ms. [y/l/n]."

You giggled and he laughed. Stuffing his hands in his pockets, Sebastian put one leg forward to bear his weight and leaned back into the doorway to give you a parting kiss. He tipped back and gave you one last look.

"God, you're beautiful," he muttered, just loud enough for you to hear, before he turned on his heel and headed down the hall.

You watched him go for several steps, lower lip bit longingly between your teeth. Sebastian glanced over his shoulder, turning to walk backward a few steps to flash you that smile that made you swoon when he saw you looking. You smiled back and he turned around again with a small hop in his step. He disappeared around the corner and you shut the door, your forehead resting against the wall as you threw the deadbolt. Sebastian Stan had officially ruined your life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have to dedicate this last chapter to all of you beautiful commenters who kept me going with your lovely words of encouragement (especially the enormously kind CloudySky and mimimoumou). I hope you enjoy!  
> I feel like this is a good stopping point, at least for now. I may consider adding a chapter here or there, but, as far as the everyday-ness of this story, I think it's done.  
> Track me down on tumblr [ whostheblondegirlwriting ] to message suggestions for plot points/requests (something you realllly need that you didn't get with this?) and I may come up with those pieces to add- no guarantees, but you never know what might inspire me. Maybe a collection for one shots, maybe a few more chapters. Anything's possible.  
> Leave your comments (or hate mail, if appropriate) below.  
> And, as always, THANK YOU!!! (ღ˘⌣˘ღ)


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